


When All Seems Lost

by ProfessorFrankly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 48,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFrankly/pseuds/ProfessorFrankly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A major tragedy in Harry's life after the Battle of Hogwarts awakens a bond to an old acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Through the Eye of the Needle

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into Harry Potter fanfiction. I'm trying to keep one chapter ahead and promising nothing in the way of a posting schedule, other than I promise to finish it before school starts back up in August. Please let me know what you think--it helps me stay motivated. 
> 
> I own nothing.

Chapter 1

"Lord Potter?"

Harry looked up from his seat in the waiting area at St. Mungo's.

"The Healer will see you now."

Harry stood quickly, his dark green eyes darting to the orderly's face. "Is my wife OK? My son?" 

"I'm sorry, Lord Potter; I can't give you that information," the young blond -- her name tag says Claire -- tugged his hand, and Harry reluctantly followed. "The Healer can tell you more."

Harry followed her down the echoing white corridor to a large office. As Claire opened the door, Harry heard his son crying, wailing really, screaming for him.

He rushed in the room, following the cries. "Here, here, Jamie," Harry crooned as he reached for the red-faced infant in the arms of a short, bald man whom he did not know. The man passed Jamie over, and as Harry cuddled his son to his chest, the man cleared his throat.

"Lord Potter? I'm Healer Davis."

Harry, still hushing his son, held up a hand to stave off the next set of words as Jamie quieted in his arms. When wails turned to snuffles, Harry looked up. "Where's my wife?"

Healer Davis cleared his throat again. While Lord Potter wasn't known for his cruelty--far from it, actually--the old healer did not want to bring any of the powerful wizard's wrath down upon himself, and he had terrible news to deliver to the Savior of the wizarding world. Healer Davis looked grateful that Lord Potter obviously cared about the son in his arms--he'd be less likely to lose control of himself.

"Lady Potter passed away before she was brought here, Lord Potter," Davis said.

"Ginny's dead?" Harry's face slackened as his hold tightened on his son, automatically soothing him with quick rubs to his back. Jamie's whimpers gave way to deep, even sleep. "What happened? I was just passed a message -- we were in session at the Wizengamot -- that my wife and my son were here. I didn't get details."

Davis paled. He hadn't expected that Lord Potter knew nothing. "Apparently, Lady Potter was out shopping in Muggle London. She was crossing the street with your son in his pram, and a vehicle hit them both. She seems to have thrown her magic around your son as a shield, because he was not physically harmed at all."

Harry cuddled Jamie even more closely.

"However," the healer continued, "her final act gave her no protection whatsoever. Lady Potter's skull was crushed between the vehicle and a nearby brick wall. She died instantly."

Harry struggled to take it in. His wife, a close friend for a decade, his wife and lover of three years, gone. The mate who helped guide him through his first forays into the adult wizaarding world, whose own dreams were crushed by the weight of his Potter family obligations, had lost her chance to watch her son grow up--and to maybe, one day, find new dreams.

A horrible weight of guilt crashed down on him. Ginny's death meant hope unfulfilled. She'd given him a son.

An heir.

But by the time Jamie was born, the passion they'd once felt was gone, and the realization that their marriage had likely been a mistake was too late. As the last Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Harry had become a Lord on his seventeenth birthday. Not that he'd known, of course--damn Dumbledore--and it took a post-battle field trip to make amends with Gringotts to discover his titles--plural--and wealth, along with his new responsibilities as a peer of the Wizarding realm.

He and Ginny had rushed into a marriage in those heady post0war days when everything felt new, and light, and free--

Before he knew he was gay.

Before she knew she didn't want to be a lady of the manor, but that she'd prefer to play professional Quidditch.

Ginny hadn't even sat for her NEWTs. Neither had Harry, actually; with the discovery of his titles, he'd gone straight into training for his new political role, apprenticing to Lucius Malfoy, of all people, and Ginny--well, they had plenty of money, didn't they? No need for her to have a career, right?

Except not having one was killing her, slowly. 

Shortsighted, both of them, Harry thought.

But the reward had been their son.

James Arthur Potter, six months old, had his grandmother Lily's green eyes and auburn hair, and appeared to be developing his own mischievious personality. In gifting him with Jamie, Ginny had not only ensured that Harry was not the last Potter after all, but that he had what he'd always wanted--a family of his own.

"I'll need to tell her family," Harry said quietly. "Can we see her?"

Davis breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of magical outburst. "I have another Healer, um, putting her back together, cleaning her up a bit." He winced at his own lack of tact. "Sorry. But the late Lady Potter will be presentable in about twenty minutes. We can have her ready for viewing at that time."

Harry nodded, then drew himself up, his face and body settling into the formal lines that befitted Lord Potter. "I thank you. I will go and inform her family, and we shall return. I will allow her father to manage the arrangements, as I will need to be with my son."

"Of course, my lord," Davis bowed slightly. "When you return, the front desk staff can direct you." He gestured to his fireplace. "Feel free to use my floo."

Cuddling his son in his left arm, Harry gathered a handful of floo powder in his right, tossed it into the flames, and called, "The Burrow."


	2. Lost and Found

Chapter 2

 

As Harry stepped out of the flames at the Burrow, he heard the cheerful voice of Molly Weasley speaking to Hermione. Hermione and Ron still lived at the Burrow, as they were saving for a house. Evidently, Hermione had the afternoon off from her apprenticeship with Barrister Stephens.

"Harry!" Molly exclaimed. "And Jamie, too! What brings you here this afternoon? Where's Ginny?"

Suddenly, the lump in his throat that he'd forced down in the Healer's office returned with a vengeance. Harry shook his head, trying to clear it, to get rid of the lump.

Ginny's dead, he tried to say. But nothing came out. His mouth gaped open, then closed.

Molly paled. "What happened to Ginny, Harry?"

He started crying, silently, and Hermione stepped up to put an arm around his shoulder, guiding him to a chair. "Harry?" she asked quietly.

Harry buried his face in Hermione's shoulder, and the words finally came. "Car crash. She saved Jamie, but --" Harry took a deep breath and looked at Molly. "Ginny's gone."

Molly's legs collapsed under her, and she hit the floor in one smooth motion, her eyes wide. For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was Harry's quiet snuffles. Hermione came to her senses first.

"Well." She cleared her throat. "I'll just get the rest of the family together then, shall I?" She slipped from the room, presumably to use the floo in the kitchen to call the boys together. Bill and Fleur from France, where they were staying with the Delacours; George and Angelina from the shop; Charlie from Romania; Percy and Audrey, Ron, and Arthur from the Ministry--all would need to come home to the Burrow, Hermione thought.

In the living room, Harry held his son to his chest, listening to Jamie breathe, unable to help anyone else. Ginny had been his wife, his best friend, and though they were no longer sleeping together, she had been a constant confidant, and his son's mother.

How am I going to do this without her?

xxx

In a small cottage in Wales, Severus Snape added a final ingredient to the general healing potion in his favorite cauldron. St. Mungo's would be grateful for the new batch--they only contracted with him for the best and the most complicated potions, and they'd been running low on this particular concoction. Of course, if they'd known it was Snape making the potion, they probably wouldn't be so eager for his services, but under his assumed name of Evan Prince, he'd built a reputation as a stellar potions master.

Of course, he'd always been a stellar potions master, but it was hard to prove it to the world at large when one was tied to a Dark Lord and a manipulative Light Lord. His "death" in the Shrieking Shack and Hogwarts four years ago gave him the opening he'd been waiting for. With the memories Potter needed safely in Potter's hands, and Dumbledore dead, Severus could do what he'd wanted to do for years--disappear.

He'd taken the antivenin he'd left stashed in his robes, apparated to Wales, and started his life under the new documentation he'd purchased years before. Evan Prince, in fact, had been around for nearly fifteen years, straining Severus with a triple life until the demise of the two opposing forces that had torn him between them. 

Now, blessedly free to live just one existence, with Potter's successful defeate of the Dark Lord and subsequent return to a "normal life," Severus enjoyed tending his potions garden and his successful potions practice, and kept up with the life of "Lord" Potter.

Wasn't that a kick in the pants? He'd known about Potter's status as the last of the Potter family, but hadn't really understood all the obligations that went along with it. James hadn't assumed the head of the family, seeing as his own father lived for more than a year after James' death, and that left Harry to assume that mantle. Given that Harry also had inherited the Black title and estates from Sirius Black, that left the young man as an influential member of the peerage, with money and the backing of fame through his defeat of Voldemort.

Potentially very influential, indeed.

So Severus kept up with the news, because though he'd like nothing more than to disappear into the quiet life, he still had a vow to fulfill. As far as Severus was concerned, his vow to Lily--his best friend--to protect and watch over her child remained in effect. Of course, Harry was unlikely to need him, but still ...

"We interrupt this broadcast of the Wizarding World Commodities exchange to bring you an immediate bulletin. Lady Ginevra Potter, wife to Lord Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, died today in Muggle London. Lady Potter apparently saved the life of her six-month-old son, the Potter heir, by shielding him from a speeding Muggle vehicle that then struck her. According to sources at St. Mungo's, Lady Potter died instantly. Son James Arthur Potter was unharmed, and Lord Potter took him home. The Potter family steward, Robert Cullen, requests that the public respect the privacy of the Potter and Weasley families during this time of mourning. The late Lady Potter was the only daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Condolences may be sent to the Potter estate, but the family asks that in lieu of flowers or other tributes, donations be sent to the War Orphan Fund managed by the Potter Foundation. We repeat, Lady Ginevra Potter, wife to Lord Harry Potter, died suddenly today saving her infant son from a speeding Muggle vehicle ..."

Well, shit.


	3. Saying Goodbye...and Hello

Chapter 3

Harry shook yet another hand, feeling numb. The manor's formal parlor was filled with people, some of whom he even knew.

Most, however, simply wanted to claim they'd been here.

He found that he didn't care.

Ginny had been popular at school, and of course, her friends were here. As a respected member of the Wizengamot, Harry had several colleagues who didn't want to offend Lord Potter. Of course, they were here. The Weasleys and extended family were here, obviously. Who knew who else. Robert was handling security as well as anything else that was required. 

Harry just stood at the front door, formally and mindlessly welcoming each guest to his home for the viewing of Lady Ginevra Potter.

He wanted to be anywhere but here. Saying goodbye to his wife.

Molly had Jamie, finding some comfort in cuddling her grandson. She introduced him as needed. 

They never had introduced him to society, Harry thought. That usually waits for the first birthday, with a formal birth announcement given to the press at birth and a party at the first birthday.

Six months old, and introduced to society. 

He'd been greeting each guest automatically, but when Lucius Malfoy stepped up to him, Harry shook himself out of his reverie. "Lucius, thank you for coming," Harry said, extending his hand. The pair maintained a cordial relationship, as Lucius had partly repaid his family's life-debt to Harry by taking the young Lord under his wing in the political arena, teaching him about the Wizengamot and the inner workings of the Ministry. 

Lucius took Harry's hand in a firm handshake. "I am sorry for your loss, Lord Potter. Lady Potter brought great joy to your life and gave you a healthy heir. She will be missed."

Harry forced a small smile. "Thank you. Please, be welcome." Lucius inclined his head and continued into the formal parlor. The next guest stepped up, and Harry turned to him.

It was Severus Snape.

Harry's jaw dropped, even as he extended his hand. "Professor Snape?"

Severus quickly redid the glamour he'd worn to change his appearance, having dropped it briefly to alert Harry to his identity, changing his eye color to blue and his hair to brown, and nodded briefly. "Please, call me Evan Prince." He took Harry's hand, pressing it into his own, and holding it rather than shaking it. "I know you'll have questions, Mr. Potter, but I felt I needed to come and support you in this time of sorrow."

Stuttering, Harry left his hand in Severus', looking into eyes that should be obsidian black. "Yes, I do. I mean, I have questions. But, how?"

Severus gave a wry smile. "It's a fairly simple story. Just be aware that Severus Snape truly is dead. And Evan Prince is here for you, as your mother would have wanted."

Harry closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. "Thank you," he said, opening his own Lily-green eyes to look at Severus. "I'm glad to know that you're still here. I do have many questions, though."

"And I'll answer them, but now is probably not the time." Severus released Harry's hand and stepped back. "I'll pay my respects. And I'd like to meet your son."

"Yes, of course," Harry shook off the gratitude and confusion that flooded him. "Molly has him. He brings her some comfort."

"Of course," Severus said, and stepped away, moving into the crowded parlor. Harry watched his progress, and felt comforted.

Perhaps not everything was lost, if Severus Snape could live.

xxx

They interred Ginny in the Potter family cemetery, another space that Harry hadn't known about until after his little trip to Gringotts. Why his parents hadn't been buried there was still a mystery, but it seemed right to Harry to have Ginny entombed in the family plot, so that one day, she'd be near her son. 

Harry, having liberated Jamie from Molly, cuddled him close as Weasley and Potter family magic solidified a sarcophogus of white marble, glazed in Ginny's likeness, over her coffin. Behind him and to the left, the Weasleys stood, and behind him and to his right, "Evan Prince" stood, identified to the Weasleys as an old friend of his parents. The Dursleys didn't come, but, then again, Harry hadn't really expected them to. He stood, silently, then stepped forward with Jamie. 

"We say farewell to Lady Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter, our wife and mother. May she rest in peace."

A chorus of "So mote it be" answered his statement, and crowd filtered out of the cemetery, back to the house ballroom for lunch.

xxx

Harry invited Severus to sit with the family at lunch, and as he settled Jamie into his lap, Harry asked the house-elves for soft rice cereal and a warm bottle. 

"You know, Harry dear, it's really going to be too much for you to take care of a baby and work in the Wizengamot," Molly said tentatively. 

"Thank you for your concern, Molly, but I'll manage," Harry said softly. "He's my son, and I will be the one who raises and takes care of him."

Molly pursed her lips. "You know that I would be glad to help by taking Jamie any time you'd like."

"Thank you, Molly," Harry said again, unmoved. "I appreciate the thought."

Severus leaned in to interrupt the conversation, which looked as if it might heat up, and asked, "How are things at the Wizengamot?"

Harry looked up, grateful for the change of subject. Molly meant well, but she truly believed that only stay-at-home parents could take adequate care of children. It was a sore subject for Ginny, who had ranted several times about her mother's expectations in child-rearing. "If she has her way, I'll never have a life, Harry!"

Frankly, Harry worried a bit about Molly's interfering with Jamie's rearing. He had no intention of letting her have Jamie.

"I've not been in this week, of course, but the chamber shut down anyway out of respect for my lady Potter," Harry said, answering Severus' question. "We've several bills at the moment we're discussion, mostly dealing with creature rights. If I have my way, we'll be doing away with the 'being' classification system altogether in recognition of 'sentient' beings. It's the definition of 'sentient' is what's tripping us up at this point." He deftly spooned a small bit of cereal into Jamie's mouth. Jamie promptly spit most of it back, working it on his tongue as he figured out how to eat it. 

"Fascinating," Severus responded, watching. It was hard to tell whether he meant the creature rights or Jamie's struggle with his cereal. 

"It really is," Hermione chimed in. "I only wish we could do away with house elf enslavement."

Harry shook his head, giving Jamie another spoonful. "You now know as well as I do that house elf magic is tied to their enslavement. There's no way to free them without killing them. They must be bound to a wizard. Of course, that doesn't mean we can't regulate their treatment--which we will."

"Your mother would be proud," Severus said quietly. 

"How did you know Harry's mother, Mr. Prince?" Hermione inquired.

The answer was pure truth. "We were childhood friends and neighbors. Lily was one of my best friends." My only friend, Severus added silently.

"I see," Hermione said softly.

Jamie interrupted the conversation rather spectactularly by spitting up all over himself. Good lad, Severus thought, smiling at him.

Harry looked up from where he was cleaning Jamie with a conjured burbing cloth just in time to see the smile. Even with a glamour, Severus was recognizable if you knew who you were looking at. And Harry smiled back.


	4. Answers

Chapter 4: Answers

The last of the Weasleys flooed from the family parlor, and Harry heaved a sigh. Jamie was down for a nap, taken there by his much-loved house-elf, Rissa, and the only humans left in the house besides Jamie were he and Severus.

"Could you drop the glamour, please? Only I want to make sure its you I'm looking at," Harry asked quietly.

Severus complied. "Better?"

"Yes." Harry hesitated. "Please, have a seat."

They took armchairs opposite each other, the air thick with a tension that had been alleviated somewhat by the presence of the crowd. The silence between them stretched out until Harry could take it no longer.

"How are you still alive?" he asked.

Severus sighed. "Antivenin and blood replenishers. I had a loyal house elf apparate me to my cottage and I was able to patch myself up. It was touch and go for a long while, there, but I managed. I wasn't sure I would, but I'd hoped I'd finally be able to live a quiet life. 'Evan Prince' has been a pseudonym for me for almost as long as you've been alive. He exists as much as Severus Snape ever did. And with both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord dead, I was able to assume his identity full time without too much trouble."

"And I suppose letting us all think you were dead was a necessary part of the ruse," Harry mused softly. "I wish I'd known, though. I thought I'd failed you, badly."

"You didn't," Severus said simply. "In fact, you saved us all. You listened to your overbearing, snarky Potions professor--whom you had very little reason to trust, after all--learned what you needed to learn, and went to your death." He paused. "How did you survive that, after all? I was furious with Dumbledore when he told me that was what was necessary. I vowed to protect you."

Harry smiled softly, his eyes darkening. "I had help. My parents, Sirius and Remus appeared to me in the woods, and walked with me into the clearing where Voldemort killed me. But he killed the Horcrux inside of me, instead. I had a choice, then, according to those on the other side--stay with my parents and dead family, or live and create a new one. At least, that's how I saw it. And I chose to live."

"I'm glad you did," Severus said quietly.

They stayed silent for a moment, Harry looking down at his hands and Severus looking into the flames of the family room fireplace. After a quiet minute, Harry looked up. "So, what have you been up to the last few years?"

Severus cleared his throat. "Potions-making. I started a business as Evan Prince in making and delivering high-quality, original and challenging potions. It's grown quite nicely and makes a good profit. My cottage in Wales is located ideally for collecting some of the harder to find ingredients, and I have a quiet life there. I keep up with the news, of course." He hesitated, then added, "Mostly, I've been trying to keep track of you. As far as I'm concerned, my vow is still in effect. And while I had to play my role while you were alive, I need you to know now that I always cared about you, even while you drove me insane with your idiotic Gryffindorish ways."

Harry started, then laughed, long and hard, and Severus joined in. Rissa popped into existance between them. "Mister Harry, you'll be waking the baby if you keep that up!"

Wiping his eyes, Harry let out another guffaw before replying, "Laughter is good for the soul, Rissa, and Jamie would be happier for it. But I know you didn't come in here just to scold us."

Rissa nodded importantly. "Master Jamie is awake and looking for his Daddy."

"Well, then, Severus, would you like to formally meet Lily's grandson?"

"I'd be delighted."

xxx

Jamie had had quite enough of strangers at his mother's funeral, and meeting with the tall dark man at his father's side had been brief. Though Severus had seen and smiled at the lad, he'd yet to get a good, close look at him.

As Harry handed the baby over, Severus cupped the back of Jamie's head with one large hand and used the other to support his bottom.

He looked like Lily.

Jamie's deep green eyes matched his father's--and grandmother's--exactly, and with the deep auburn red curls that adorned his head, his features took on a decidedly Lily-ish cast. The scattering of freckles over his nose, however, were pure Weasley.

"Your son is quite a handsome young man," Severus said solemly. Jamie looked him right in the eye, fascinated by the depth to the silken voice of the dark man. "I do believe he likes my voice."

Who wouldn't? Harry thought irreverently. Bad Harry! Bad Harry! Why am I thinking that? Unbidden, Harry thought of what that voice could say to him, do to him, as he lay in bed with the sexy Potions master.

I am in so much trouble.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. In case it isn't clear, I like to tell back story thoughout the whole story, rather than sticking a whole bunch of exposition up front. I promise, you will find out how Harry became a Lord and so forth. I've added a tag for canon divergence.

Chapter 5

It had been a hellishly long day, with just one bright spot--the survival and appearance of Severus Snape.

Snape--no, Severus--no, Evan, dammit--had been a complete surprise, but a welcome one, Harry thought. He lay in his large four-poster, lonely for company and brooding about his life. That the Potions Master had survived really wasn't as much of a shock as it could have been; Harry had hoped the man had lived, as no body was recovered. A pile of ash had been all that was left of the Shack in which Snape had "died," and only the testimonies of Harry, Hermione and Ron had laid the man to rest in the eyes of the Ministry. So to speak.

Still, Harry leaned back against the pillows and thought about the man. He'd seemed much more at peace than before, but then again, who wouldn't? No duplicitous masters to serve, no triple life to endure, just a quiet cottage with his potions lab. It must seem like bliss to Snape, who'd nearly died in his service to polar opposites. The amount of pressure and stress on him must have been incredible, Harry thought.

And still, Severus had turned up to support him, just because he thought that he, Harry, might need it.

Which led him to the thought he'd been avoiding all day, even while smacked in the face with it.

He'd buried his wife today.

In the last year, they'd been just friends--really good friends, and co-parents--but just friends. Losing yet another friend, much less one he'd known intimately, who had given birth to his child, hurt.

And to a stupid Muggle drunk driver?

Harry shuddered. The poice report had been clear. The man whose vehicle had smashed Ginny into a brick wall had a blood alcohol of well over the legal limit. How he'd managed to survive when Ginny hadn't no one knew, for certain, though Harry suspected with that much booze in his system, he'd probably just absorbed the shock. As it was, the man was in critical condition in hospital, and police were waiting for him to wake up so they could "arrest" him for manslaughter.

If the man survived, he'd be under police guard in hospital and eventually on trial for his crime.

Ginny. He missed her already. While they weren't really meant to be lovers, he missed the closeness of his wife, her warm advice, and her unwavering support of him and his decisions, even as she chafed at the weight of the role his decisions cast on her. Their main arguments, after they'd come to terms with Harry's sexual preferences, dealt with how she could throw off some of those restrictions. As Lady Potter, Ginny had been "encouraged" to be at home with her children, to take up some hobby to keep her otherwise engaged, and to act as a lovely foil for Lord Potter as he engaged in public duties.

As an active, powerful witch in her own right, Ginny hated the thought of, as she put it, "smiling vacantly while trotting obediently after her lord and master."

It didn't help that while society found it perfectly acceptable to hire help with her child--so that, in Ginny's case, she could pursue further education and perhaps find a career compatible with her new role--her own mother, Molly, did not find it acceptable, and continued to pressure Ginny to be Jamie's sole caretaker. The rows between the two of them had threatened to blister Harry's eardrums.

The odd thing, Harry thought, was that Molly also seemed opposed to Harry helping overly much with Jamie. If Harry had his way, he'd spend most of his time with his son. Molly brushed off his instincts by telling him that he, Harry, had "more important" things to do than care for an infant.

That, too, irritated Ginny, who knew better than anyone just how much Harry wanted a family and children of his own. Why bother having them, she'd ask, if you didn't want to spend time with them and take care of them?

Harry smiled to himself. Ginny should have had all the time in the world to follow her true dreams. She was only 20, after all, and they'd agreed she'd be at home with Jamie for a year before pursuing her own course.

Six months after Jamie's birth, Ginny was dead. Forever frozen at 20, dreams unfulfilled, talented wasted.

Harry curled up with his pillow, letting the tears he'd been hiding finally fall for his wife.

xxx

Severus added a final ingredient to the burn healing salve he was making, stirred the pot six times clockwise, then turned off the flame and set the cauldron to the side to cool down. He set a timer for the next batch of healing potions, then stepped back to survey the workspace. Everything under control for at least the next twelve hours, he thought. He tidied up the area, checked the charms on the healing potions one last time, then turned out the lights and headed up to his study to sit with the latest Daily Prophet.

The pot of tea he conjured up to go along with his paper steamed gently as Severus gratefully sank into his favorite leather armchair chair. He poured a cup, then unfurled the paper.

LORD POTTER BURIES HIS WIFE

Pictures of the front of Potter House, the line of guests winding out the front door, and a close-up shot of Harry shaking hands with one of the many attendees, spread out over the front page.

Apparently, Severus thought, there was nothing else to report on yesterday. At least nothing of import.

He looked more closely at the picture of Harry, recognizing the weariness in his face, and the sort-of stunned dullness that haunted the young man's expression.

Harry's face had only "awoken" when he'd seen Severus.

Granted, Severus thought, the death of his wife would have left the man stunned and grieving, and the return from the dead of a man he'd not had closure with certainly should have shocked him into some sort of reaction. It was good, then, that he'd gone, and not just to support him.

If Harry weren't careful, the depression he could fall into might well destroy him.

Severus thought about Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, with the weight of Cedric's death casting a cloud over everything Harry attempted. The grief permeated Harry's very being, and the neglect of his friends, the pressure from Voldemort, and Severus' own unfortunate need to try to teach him Occlumency did Harry no favors. Severus had worried, angry and frustrated over his inability to provide support rather than condemnation, at least in public. With the Dark Lord's continued look into Harry's mind, it had been--unwise--to offer emotional support, and imperative that he appeared distant, even as the Occlumency instruction had required intimacy.

Such a challenge, and as Severus watched Harry's mind collapse under the strain of the tortured lessons and deep depression, he came to a conclusion that Albus Dumbledore wouldn't have appreciated.

Occlumency wasn't helping, and the lessons were only hurting, Harry's mind.

So Severus had planned a way to give them both a legitimate excuse for stopping the lessons. Of course he had known that the pensieve would attract Harry's attention, giving him something else to think about and an opportunity for Severus to stop the mind attacks. The scene he chose was a kind of message to Harry, too, a message of understanding. The idea that someone else understood what kind of bullying Harry'd gone through at the hands of his non-magical family, he hoped. Granted, he'd wanted to give Harry something else to think about, too, in an effort to keep the Dark Lord's thoughts at bay.

And it worked. Sort of.

But it was something he and Harry still needed to discuss, if they were to have any kind of friendship at all, if that was something Harry even wanted.

Severus thought his own presence in Harry's life might not be entirely unwelcome. Certainly Harry had been cordial, even has Severus explained his new life. They had not gotten into any of the whole, tangled, sticky mess that had been their relationship as teacher and student at Hogwarts. But Severus hoped that they could build a new foundation for a relationship as adult friends.

He finished his tea, glanced at the clock, and realized the lateness of the hour. He headed to bed, and his last thoughts as he drifted off focused on a pair of green eyes.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

An eagle owl soared through Severus' kitchen window, catching him unawares at the breakfast table, where he'd been reading through a new story from a favorite fantasy writer while sipping the last of his breakfast tea.

"What have you there?" Severus asked, gently disengaging the note from the owl's talons. The owl hooted importantly and stood his ground. "Ah, you need a reply. Very well. One moment."

The note was short:

Dear Evan,

I hope I may call you Evan. It seems the most appropriate form of address.

It was good to see you yesterday, and I believe we still have much to discuss. I hope that we can resume a friendly conversation, and if your schedule permits, I'd like to have you come for dinner this evening. Jamie goes down about 7--he's sleeping through the night now, thank goodness--so if you'd like to come and see him first, you could arrive at 6 or so. We'll eat after he's in bed.

If tonight doesn't suit, or you're not interested, just let me know.

Harry

PS--Do you think Lucius' lessons in deportment are working? This sounds a little formal to me. How about, "Evan, my good man, come over for drinks and dinner. I've got the good whiskey." Or maybe, "Dude, let's hang out at the pub." At any rate, I'd like to see you. H

Severus snorted. Hanging out at the pub did sound a bit more fun that a formal dinner after the child was in bed, but the whole drinks-and-dinner-plus-good-whiskey part really sold him. He summoned a piece of parchment from his study--curiously not wanting to send Harry's missive back, it was funny after all--and responded.

My dear Lord Potter,

Such a missive I haven't seen in many a year. While the pub sounds fun, I think you'll not be surprised that I'll enjoy the good whiskey at your home a bit more at this time. And yes, I'd like to "hang out" with you as well. In the interests of saying hello to Jamie, I'll be by at 6 ish.

With an amused smirk,

Evan aka "Dude"

PS--your lessons have increased your ability to be formal quite nicely. Do tell, however, how Lucius got involved with this? D

xxx

Harry laughed out loud at Severus' response to his morning note. Who actually writes "with an amused smirk"?

Well, apparently, Severus did. And he had a sense of humor, too.

Oh, good, Harry thought.

Taking another piece of parchment, Harry thought for a moment, then wrote:

Dude,

As part of the deal Lucius worked with the Ministry--with my assistance, post-war--he was given the task of tutoring me in matters of politics and comportment becoming a lord. We've since managed to cultivate a cordial working relationship. The other terms of his remaining out of Azkaban included massive reparations to families of victims and a period of probation under my supervision, so it was our mutual benefit.

In fact, you'll have Lucius to thank for the selection of fine Muggle single-malt whiskeys available here. As part of his tutelage, we toured a number of distilleries.

(Course we can always go for a pint at the pub, too. I'm in no way particular. Fancy anything special for dinner? Are you a fish-and-chips man or a fine steak-and-fancy fellow? It occurs to me I know very little about you, personally.)

Cordially, with a pleasant expression,

Just Harry

xxx

Severus looked up from his stirring to see the return of the owl. Pleasantly surprised, he finished his last clockwise stir, cast a stasis charm on the cauldron, then took the letter. He chuckled as read the address to "Dude"--suspecting Harry of watching too many American telly programs--then perked up as he read the bit about the selection of single-malts. Lucius' tastes were expensive, but excellent.

He gave the last parenthetical a bit more thought, and realized Harry's notion that he really didn't know much about Severus was probably more than a bit true. For all that Severus knew many, many things about Harry, Severus himself had been a mystery--one deliberately cultivated, one deliberately deceptive, and one that, should their friendship move forward, Severus needed to dispel a bit of.

Tough job, that, he thought, looking idly at the shimmering light coming from the top of the silver cauldron in the corner, holding a specialized healing blend that needed 14 days rest in silver. For as many years as Harry'd been alive, Severus had been keeping his true self well-hidden.

Perhaps writing some things down would help?

Just Harry,

I grew up near your mother on the rougher side of the industrial Muggle town of Gloucestershire. Part of me will always be fish-and-chips and a pint at the pub--good, dark stout--but I have also learned to appreciate many more things. My long association with the Malfoys, for example, forced me to undertake a bit of an education in deportment, myself.

The thought of a fine single-malt makes my mouth water in anticipation. Such things should be sipped and appreciated. And I'm not averse to a fine steak, at all.

Perhaps a bit of both might be the best description of my tastes--fish and chips with a glass of single-malt to complement. No reason we can't appreciate it all, is there?

As you say, you don't know me at all well on a personal level. For many years, I had to mask my true self from everyone in order to protect you and play my role for two strong, competing masters. Since I first made that disastrous mistake of bringing the prophecy to Voldemort and witnessing his interpretation of it, I have only ever been on your side. It was important, however, that you not know this, so that you could not give the game away.

I did so many things to that end that I'm not proud of. I let it be thought that it was because you looked like James that I "hated" you. But the truth is, every time I saw your eyes, I was reminded of how very much your life depended upon my ability to let everyone think that. You have Lily's eyes; she was my best friend, a sister to me in all ways that counted, and it was for her sake that I fought for you.

Until the end of your first year, when you lay in the hospital wing after your first run-in with Voldemort.

So brave, so strong, and so utterly reckless a move was that, Just Harry. I admired your courage even as it terrified me, and I realized then that I would do my best to protect you for you.

You never made that easy, did you, Just Harry?

Still, you're right. What do you want to know about me, the person, Severus? I know it is mildly dangerous to commit this information--all of it--to paper, including my name, but only to me. I shall charm this parchment to keep all but you from reading it, so it should be safe enough. I'll continue to do the same in any responses, but perhaps we should save the rest for a conversation over whiskey this evening?

Your friend, the Dude. With a pensive expression.

xxx

Dude,

I wish you to keep yourself safe from those who might wish you harm, and I know the true danger is to your privacy. I'll keep that as safe as I can.

I have many things I want to know, but a few strike me as more important than others. As the day is drawing later, perhaps answers may wait until I see you, but your letter raised some questions for me.

I thought, from your memories, your love for my mother was romantic, but you refer to her as a sister. Care to explain?

Since I'll not assume I know anything, I'll then ask about things I'd always assumed, but don't know. Favorite color. Favorite food. Favorite hobby. Favorite story (book, movie, whatever). Favorite item of clothing. Paper or plastic?

I find I want to know everything.

With anticipation,

Just Harry

xxx

Severus stepped through the Floo at Potter House precisely at 6 to find Harry playing on the floor in the large family parlor with his son, making faces and jingling a large set of plastic keys over the lad's face.

"You'll scare him off driving with those," he commented, brushing soot from the front of the loose dark blue jumper he wore with steel-grey trousers. He'd finished his working day with a shower and a shampoo, wanting to make a different sort of impression than what Harry had likely remembered.

Judging from the appreciative look in Harry's eyes, he'd succeeded.

"He likes the noise," Harry commented. "Want to come down and play with us?"

Severus folded himself gracefully to the floor and took a position opposite Harry. Both men lay on their sides, facing each other, with Jamie in the middle, wiggling in his excitement at the attention.

"So this is a favorite game, then?" Severus asked, his deep voice catching Jamie's attention. The baby's own green eyes looked right into Severus's own, fascinated by the dark-eyed man. No need for a glamour at Harry's, he'd thought.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, smiling quietly at the interplay of his son and his newly found friend. "I think it likely to be good Quidditch training."

Severus scoffed quietly. "As if looking at small shiny things now will prepare him for being a Seeker later."

"You never know," Harry chuckled.

The pair fussed and cooed over Jamie for a bit longer before the baby started getting annoyed with their attention.

"Ah," Harry said. "It must be time for--" Rissa popped in--"Jamie's dinner."

"Right you are, Master Harry," Rissa said. "Let me have the young one, and you can come up to tuck him in when he's ready for bed."

"Yes, Rissa," Harry intoned, eyes twinkling at the bossiness of his nanny elf. He picked Jamie up, cuddled him to his chest, then looked the baby in the eye. "Be good for Rissa, now, Jamie-lad. I'll be up shortly to tuck you in." Jamie gurgled back, and Harry grinned. "Here you are," he said, handing Jamie off.

Severus sat up, too, then said, abruptly, "Navy blue, pepperoni pizza, never had one, anything Sherlock Holmes, I'm wearing it, and paper. Can't use plastic in potions."

Harry looked at him confusedly for a second, then his face cleared and he laughed. "Marvelous. Let's see, for me, it's emerald green, treacle tart, Quidditch, The Hobbit, my old Quidditch jersey, and, conveniently, also paper. See, we know more about each other already!"

Severus laughed with him.


	7. Chapter 7--Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are revelations and answered questions

Chapter 7--Dinner

Harry led Severus to the family dining room, a cozy space with seating for eight around a light oak table. The table had been laid for two, and as the pair walked in, another house elf popped into view.

"Master Harry, sir, dinner's waiting to be served whenever you're wanting it," the small being said.

"Well done, Tory, we'll have it at once," Harry smiled at the kitchen elf and pulled out a chair for Severus. "Not a date, but I'm afraid I'm too used to this courtesy," he added as Severus seated himself. Harry took the chair adjacent, and looked up expectantly.

"I always appreciate courtesy," Severus said, smiling a little. "I suppose you're wanting other answers now?"

"Yes, but how about you start over--" two plates full of fresh fried fish and crispy chips popped into view--"the house special?" Harry asked, gesturing to the plates and reaching for the conveniently placed malt vinegar.

"Lovely," Severus said, inhaling the delicious aroma. Tory popped into view at his elbow with a pint class filled with a dark stout, expertly pulled. "And this looks perfect."

"I'd hoped you'd think so," Harry said, reaching for his own glass as Tory came round his chair. "I'm very glad you're not as formal as Lucius. This is much more my speed."

Severus sat back, taking a sip from his stout thoughtfully, before answering. "I would think so. You never were one to stand on ceremony--in fact, I'm fairly certain you didn't even know such ceremony could exist and apply to you. This--" he gestured to the coziness of the room "--is much more what I think of you as. The 'Lord Potter' business took me by surprise."

"Me as well," Harry said, sprinkling more vinegar on his chips. "When I went to Gringotts to fess up to breaking and entering, I did NOT expect they would simply take reparations out of one of the many vaults I didn't know I had. Nor did I expect the ceremony with which they did, nor the formal announcement and acceptance of a lordship. I was gobsmacked, to put it lightly, and seeing as I was still recovering from being dead, seeing so many people lost--well, I just didn't handle it well, I don't think."

"How does one handle a sudden new role in society well?" Severus wondered aloud. "I'd imagine that anyone would be hard pressed to do as well as you apparently did."

Harry smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "I got clingy," he admitted. "I got clingy, and married Ginny much more quickly than was wise, and then discovered, to my shock, that I really wasn't attracted to her."

That got Severus' attention. "Oh?"

"Don't get me wrong," Harry added hastily. "She was, especially after the war, my best friend, a sounding board, a confidant, a partner. But we discovered fairly early on that I was not sexually atracted to her." He took a deep breath, wondering how this would go over. "I'm actually gay."

Severus set his glass of stout down and leaned forward. "That must have been difficult to discover," he mused, "particularly since you were already married in an unbreakable Marriage bond."

Harry nearly collapsed in relief at the matter-of-fact tone. "Ginny was furious, but she also, after more than a bit of discussion, became my biggest supporter. We loved each other, just not that way. We decided to make the most of it, of course. We didn't have a choice, really. She agreed to carry Jamie--the heir--with an option for more children down the road, but we were working on a plan to free her time so she could have a career and a life beyond Lady Ginny Potter."

"She loved you," Severus said. "I'm glad she was wise enough to accept you as you are, too."

Harry picked up another chip, chewing it thoughtfully as the pair settled into their dinner. They ate in silence for a minute, just processing the news, before Severus cleared his throat and set his fork down. "I think, then, you might understand how I loved your mother as a sister," he said. Taking a deep breath, he added, "Not many know this, but I, too, am gay."

Harry simply stared, then shook his head quickly to dispel the rude behavior. "That's unexpected," he said, and adding before he thought about it, "but not unwelcome."

"Not unwelcome?" Severus truly did smirk at that. "Not quite the response I was expecting to that revelation."

Flustered, Harry blushed and stuttered a bit, his newly acquired fine manners failing him as he attempted to stem the embarrassment he was feeling. "I only meant that since I started noticing men, I realized that I had paid an inordinate amount of attention to you, especially fifth year, and that if I'd opened my eyes to myself at the time I might have figured out that I was gay much earlier, and then I wouldn't have had to put Ginny through this, and she wouldn't be dead, and now I find out that the object of my notice also could have possibly been receptive to notice, even if he wasn't already a teacher ... Merlin, I'm very bad at this. I'm shutting up now."

Severus started laughing. "Harry," he chortled, "I didn't understand any of that, really, except for one thing, and that is your gratefulness that you know someone else who is also gay." He held up a hand for a minute, getting himself under control, then continued. "Everything that happened in your life up until this point has happened for a reason, never forget, and it does no good to dwell on past mistakes. Simply accept them, and the fact that without your past, you would not now have that delightful baby upstairs, whom I can tell you love with your whole heart. You're alright, Harry."

Harry buried his face in his hands for a minute. "Just mortally embarrassed my reaction," he mumbled.

"I can say, without a doubt, that no one has died of embarrassment," Severus said quietly. He hesitated, then reached for Harry's right hand, the closest one to him, and grasped it gently, pulling it away from Harry's face. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just sheer relief that you don't find me disgusting, and apparently didn't as far back as your fifth year."

Harry pulled his other hand away from his face. "No. In fact, as long as I'm having embarassing conversation, I might as well confess that your voice, in Potions class, distracted me from finishing them correctly. Happy now? Everytime you said something particularly cutting, especially when you were right by my station, I felt hot and flushed, and I only recognize, now, as an adult, that what I was feeling was intense attraction."

"My voice, eh?" Severus thought about that for a second, then had a truly Slytherin thought. Still holding Harry's hand, he leaned forward until his lips nearly glazed Harry's ear, before employing his deepest timbre to say, "Does it still work?"

Harry gave a full-body shiver. "Apparently," he whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut. Had he only buried Ginny yesterday? This, this, was entirely inappropriate. Wasn't it?

Severus squeezed his hand again, then set it gently in Harry's lap and backed away. "Interesting," he said softly. "Shall I tell you, then, that since I have come back into your life, I have noticed that you are a very handsome, intelligent, and engaging young man? I particularly find your eyes to be memerizing." He paused for a moment. "I know everyone says they look like Lily's, and to an extent that's true, but the look in them, Harry, is all you. And it makes me want to know you better than I do, as an adult, as a friend--" he gulped "--and maybe something more?"

"For all the Slytherin posturing, my friend, that Gryffindor bravery," Harry said softly, looking up and meeting Severus' eyes. "And I think I'd like that."

Rissa popped into the room. "Master Jamie is ready to be seeing his daddy now, sir."

"Ah, yes, Rissa," Harry straightened up. "We'll be along in a minute." Rissa noted the "we," but said nothing as she popped away. Harry stood, contemplating his empty plate before holding his hand out to Severus. "Shall we go see Jamie and then see about some dessert?"

"Yes, let's," Severus said, and placed his hand in Harry's.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author discovers that characters sometimes do what they want to do. It's magic.

Chapter 8 -- Dessert

 

They held hands as Harry led the way to the nursery, where his sleepy son was more than ready for a daddy snuggle and kiss. Harry picked up Jamie, nuzzled into his little neck, and whispered the same thing he'd said to Jamie every night since his birth. "Mummy and Daddy love you, little man. Have sweet, sweet dreams." He kissed him on the forehead, lay him gently in the crib, and rubbed his little chest gently until Jamie's eyes drifted and stayed closed. Emotion welled up in him, some he couldn't name. Love, pride, joy--they all had a place here-- but also, grief, pain, and something undefinable that may have been protectiveness. Nothing would ever harm his child if it was in his power to do something to prevent it.

 

"He's quite a lovely baby, Harry," Severus said quietly, feeling as if he was almost an intruder.

 

"Yes, he is," Harry said simply, then turned to Severus, breathing deeply. "May I lean on you?"

 

Severus recognized the gravity of the question, and answered in kind, not even needing to think about it. "Always."

 

Harry stepped toward Severus, then leaned into to place his head in the curve of Severus' neck, his hands at his hips, as he simply breathed him in. Slowly, Severus wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him as the emotions swept through the younger man. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, content to hold on, but as the storm passed, Harry's breathing slowed, Severus' arms tightened, then loosed, and the pair stepped back from each other just enough to look into each other's eyes.

 

Severus was the taller of the two by nearly six inches, but that just meant that Harry could fit his head under his chin if he wanted to. They were both slim, but Harry could feel the strength in the arms that held him, and he knew he could lean on him. Truly knew it, somewhere deep in his soul that he'd never felt before. Harry tilted his head up--an invitation--and Severus leaned slightly down to meet Harry's lips with his own.

 

Oh, Harry thought dimly. Oh, this is nice. This is...right. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly. Unable to resist, Severus dipped his tongue along the open seam of Harry's mouth, and Harry met it. As their tongues met, something in Harry's very soul pealed, and Severus, staggered by the weight of the sound, felt his own soul reach for the source. Locked at the mouth, the couple tightened their arms around each other as a whisper of their magics floated over them, and the peal became a chorus as they blended together. They deepened the kiss, and their hips slotted together as the magics rose around them, encaging them in soft white light that pulsed with their joining. The cage glowed, then sank into their skins, and the two broke apart, gasping at the intense sensation.

 

Jamie slept on.

 

“What was that?” Harry asked quietly, stunned at the sensation of white light soaking into his skin.

 

Severus caught his breath, then said, “I’ve heard about this, but never seen it.” He hesitated, then stepped toward Harry again, folding him back into his arms. Harry lay his head in the curve of Severus’ shoulder, breathing deeply as Severus continued. “It appears to be a bond of some kind.”

 

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Harry said.

 

Severus swallowed. “This kind of bond light often happens at …”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Wedding ceremonies.” Severus tightened his arms around Harry. “I’ve managed to avoid weddings, but I’ve heard this kind of light can occur at the end of the ceremony, binding hearts and magic. It occurs with mutual intent.”

 

“That didn’t happen at my wedding to Ginny,” Harry whispered.

 

“Had you been ready, had she truly been the one for you, it would have,” Severus murmured.

 

“Yet another sign that she and I were not meant to marry,” Harry said sadly.

 

“That it’s happened now, though,” Severus continued, slightly shaky, “that means something.”

 

Harry leaned back to look into Severus’s eyes. “On my part, Severus, when I kissed you, I felt that I could truly lean on you. I gave you my trust.”

“I kissed you because you needed me.” Severus took another deep, shaky breath. “And I have loved you, in one capacity or another, for a very long time.”

 

Silently, they held each other for another moment, listening to Jamie’s quiet breathing, holding each other, thinking and feeling, until Harry said softly, “I think I could love you, too.”

 

“Magic recognizes intent,” Severus answered. “This kind of bond forms between two people who on some level already recognize the intent to be with each other. There should be mutual trust and love before such a commitment. Apparently, magic recognized something we hadn’t yet.” He tipped back to look into Harry’s eyes again. “Maybe magic decided to give us a boost so we’d recognize it.”

 

Harry laughed quietly. “Maybe.” He withdrew, drawing back until just their hands touched. “But magic should also recognize that we need to learn about each other, too.” He took Severus’ right hand in his left. “Come. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our men learn a bit more about each other

Chapter 9 -- Getting to know you, getting to know all about you …

 

Harry brought Severus to his personal rooms, a master’s suite comprised of a bedroom, bath, and sitting room, done in Harry’s favorite emerald green with light wood accents. He led the way to a comfortable deep brown leather sofa placed before a merrily crackling fire in a granite fireplace. The pair seated themselves, and, hesitantly, Harry leaned back into Severus, his head bumping just under Severus’ chin as Severus brought his arm around him, tucking him close.

“I wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt you during Occlumency lessons,” Severus said abruptly.

The thought was so far abreast from Harry’s own, softer--and to confess, a bit steamier--thoughts, it took him a minute for his brain to catch up. “Oh, well, that’s good,” he said hesitantly. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Severus snorted to himself. “I’ve been torturing myself with thoughts that you might resent me for them.”

“Please don’t,” Harry said softly. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for invading your privacy for ages, and I never thought I’d get the chance.”

“Please don’t,” Severus quipped back. “I could see that the lessons were making things worse, and under Dumbledore’s eye, I couldn’t do much to stop them. I left that pensive out on purpose. I’d hoped, maybe, you’d see me as a person, if you saw some of my own memories. And you could see some of my own embarrassing times, to balance out what I’d seen in yours.”

Harry thought about that, not moving from his comfortable spot against Severus’ chest. “You engineered the encounter so that the lessons could stop. Very Slytherin of you.”

“Well, yes, that was the point,” Severus admitted.

“I’m glad you did, in a way, though I wouldn’t have chosen to deliberately hurt or embarrass you,” Harry said quietly.

“I knew that, too,” Severus replied. “I’d seen your memories, remember? Your bullying toerag of a cousin, your arse of an uncle. Tuney being the ridiculous snobby bitch she could be. I really wish I could have done something more about your placement there. But by the time I knew what Dumbledore had done--well, it was actually that fifth year. And the damage was done.”

“Dumbledore,” Harry nearly spat the name, tensing. “I know he claimed to have my best interests at heart, and certainly the war turned out the way he’d intended, but did he have to ensure my life was miserable in order to do so? No, don’t answer that.” Harry held a finger to Severus’ lips, still not looking at him, still tucked under his chin. “I can respect the man and what he did for the world as a whole, but I resent not knowing my heritage. I resent being forced to live with a neglectful and borderline abusive family. And I resent being raised only to die for the good of the wizarding world. My survival was by no means guaranteed, and Dumbledore knew that. I suppose that’s why he didn’t bother with making sure I knew my heritage, my lordship, my responsibilities. No reason for me to learn if I was never going to be able to take up the mantle, was there? No, better for me not to be distracted by it.” Harry snorted.

Severus tightened his arm around Harry, and lightly bit the finger blocking his lips so he could speak. “I had no idea so much was being kept from you. I knew, though, that Dumbledore had plots within plots, and thought ahead and around so many different possibilities that it was tough to keep up with him. He was a good man at heart, and he cared a great deal for you, but he needed you to play a role in order to end Voldemort. It’s quite likely the--distraction--of your role in wizarding society was something he planned around. If you lived, of course, you could learn. If you didn’t, well, the line would likely die out. I imagine he even planned a contingency should you father a child before your death, leaving an heir. But keeping you in the dark was to his advantage, and therefore, that’s what happened.” Severus drew a deep breath. “Very Slytherin.”

They were both silent for a moment, then Harry settled himself more deeply into Severus’ embrace, taking comfort. “Well, I lived, and I’m learning, though probably not from those whom Dumbledore would prefer, and my heritage explains a bit why the hat thought I’d do well in Slytherin.”

Severus chuckled. “I wondered about that. How different things could have been if you’d been sorted into Slytherin. I could have had a more direct role in your care, that way.”

“But then there might have been a risk that I’d see you as a father figure,” Harry said slyly. “And that is definitely not how I see you right now.”

“Nor do I see you, any longer, as a child, Harry,” Severus deepened his voice, deliberately, then said, “I see you as an intriguingly handsome, incredibly sexy young man, whom I have much more to teach.”

Harry shuddered, feeling the weight of the voice and and the words rushing through him. “And do you think I have anything to teach you?” he enquired.

“Loads,” Severus continued, in that deep, silky voice. “How to be a partner, perhaps? I’ve never allowed myself to be in a relationship of any duration, whereas you have been married. You’ve learned how to accommodate another, how to work with a partner, how to compromise. I’ve some idea, but I’m not very good at being a team member. I can work with my role within a group, but I’ll need help to become a true partner.”

“Is that what you want, Severus?” Harry asked quietly. “To become my true partner?”

Severus thought seriously about that. Did he really want to partner with this incredible young man? Did he want to make this bond of theirs work? Bond or no, Severus well knew that they could choose the parameters of how they worked together within it. They would always be connected, but they could choose how that connection would work.

He leaned a bit, bring his other arm around Harry, turning him slightly so that he could bring their faces together. Cuddled into his arms this way, Harry felt safe, protected, even as his heart rate rose. They looked into each other’s eyes for long moments, the question hanging out in front of them until Severus brought his lips close to Harry’s.

“Yes,” he said, with assurance. “I want to be your partner, Harry.”

And then he claimed Harry’s lips.

They kissed for long moments, softly, feeling the hum of the newly formed bond under their skins, the warmth of the fire, the heat rising in their bodies as Severus moved them, stretching out beside Harry on the sofa as they lay back, Severus rising over Harry to press him into the sofa, his tongue begging entrance into Harry’s mouth. Harry parted his lips, and then there was more heat, and wet snogging, and …

The crack of apparition as Rissa popped into existence in front of them. “Master Harry, sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mrs. Molly has arrived in the downstairs parlor. She wants to see you, sir.”

What would bring Molly by at this time of night, Harry wondered, trying to catch his breath as Severus backed off, sitting up and offering a hand to his partner. Harry sat up, too, uncomfortably aware of the tightness in his trousers, the heat gathered in his cheeks, and the new fact that the mother of his late wife was just downstairs.

“Did she say why she was here, Rissa?” Harry asked calmly, trying to settle himself. Having never before felt such concentrated desire--marrying a woman to whom you were not really physically attracted provides few opportunities for carnality at this depth--he felt a bit clueless.

Severus nudged him. “Think about something truly horrid,” he whispered. “Like Hagrid in a tutu.”

Harry snorted a laugh as Rissa answered him. “She was wanting to put Master Jamie down for the night and not believing me when I told her he was already sleeping, sir.” Rissa’s eyes unfocused, then refocused. “And now she’s on her way to the nursery.”

“I’ll head her off, Rissa,” Harry said. He stood, straightened himself out, and thought about the COMC professor in a tutu. It helped, marginally. “Severus, if you would remain here? I’d prefer her not to know about your continued existence at this point.”

“Of course, Harry,” Severus said, squeezing Harry’s shoulder gently. “I’ll wait here. I’ll glamour myself, if you don’t mind, in case Molly decides to get pushy about your private space.”

Harry nodded. “Probably best.” He kissed the older man quickly, then strode out the door of his sitting room and down the hall to intercept his erstwhile mother-in-law. Former mother-in-law? He really needed to check with Lucius about the proper title for Molly now that her daughter was dead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Molly makes trouble, but we can understand it. Sort of. And she gets a new, private nickname.

Chapter 10--Molly

 

As Harry slipped into the corridor of the main family wing, he saw Molly approaching the nursery from the stairs. Anticipating her, he through a quick locking charm on his son’s door to prevent her noisy entrance.

“Molly!” he called. “Stop!”

Molly looked up from where she was now tugging on the door handle. “Why is this door locked, Harry? I want to tuck my grandson in. I just know he’s missing his mother, and I’m the next best thing. I can just imagine him sobbing in there.”

Worse than he thought, then.

“Molly,” Harry said, gently but firmly removing her hands from the door and turning her back toward the family stairs. “Jamie is sleeping. I put him down myself at his bedtime at 7. It’s nearly 8 now, and he won’t be up until morning. I have a monitoring charm on his cot, and Rissa keeps a sharp eye as well. He’s fine.” And he definitely doesn’t need overprotective grandmothers pounding down his door while he’s sleeping, Harry added silently.

“But, Harry, I just know--”

He cut her off. “Molly, I know my son. And I understand you just lost your daughter. But that does not give you the right to come into my home unannounced to disrupt my son’s nightly routine. It’s past his bedtime. We’re fine. Shall I call Arthur for you?” Harry ruthlessly kept Molly moving toward the stairs, taking her elbow and helping her to move down them back to the family parlor and its handy Floo.

“Harry James Potter, if you think I’m going to stand for you keeping me from my grandson--”

“Molly Prewitt Weasley, if you think I’m going to let you ride roughshod over my household and do what you please with it, you need to think again. Ah, Arthur.” Harry, still calm and firm, greeted Arthur at the bottom of the stairs. “Come to disrupt Jamie’s bedtime, as well?”

“No, Harry, sorry. She’d worked herself into a state and was gone before I could stop her,” Arthur said. “I apologize. Mollywobbles, we talked about this. You can’t come to Potter House and do as you please. Ginny didn’t like it when you tried, and I’m sure Harry doesn’t.”

Nonplussed, Molly stopped pulling against Harry, and tears shone as she looked at her husband. “But he needs me.”

Harry set his jaw and handed Molly off to Arthur. “Molly, we love you. And we value you and your contribution to our life. But I would personally appreciate it, very much, if you would allow me to ask for help when I need it. And I would also appreciate it, very much, if you would Floo-call or send word before you march over here. I will not tolerate this kind of interruption again, and I may lock you out of the Floo if you try it. I don’t want to, but I will.” Six months of the same argument--this was by no means the first time Molly had popped in unannounced, and it had driven Ginny spare--had left Harry with very little patience for Molly’s neediness. “You have several other grandchildren who need attention, too.”

As tears rolled down Molly’s face, Arthur drew her firmly into his arms. “You know he’s well within his rights, Molly darling. I don’t want you to lose the chance to be a part of Jamie’s life simply because you can’t learn how to respect the boundaries at Potter House.”

“He’s all I have left of Ginny!” Molly wailed as she turned into her husband, who raised a hand to the back of her head, keeping her tucked into his shoulder. Harry stepped forward and gently ran a hand along her back. Between the two men, Molly’s sobs began to settle.

They said nothing as Molly regained control of herself. When she lifted her head from Arthur’s shoulder, Harry stepped back. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I apologize, Harry dear, for interrupting your evening and nearly disrupting Jamie’s routine.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Harry said, accepting the apology. “If you’d like, we can arrange a visit tomorrow so that you can see him. I know he brings you comfort right now.”

She took another of those deep, shaky breaths. “I’d like that very much.”

“Shall we say lunch and a visit?” he asked.

“Would you like to come to the Burrow for lunch?” Molly asked. “Charlie is home, of course, and he rarely gets to see you or Jamie.”

A concession he could make, certainly. And lunch at the Burrow was never a real hardship. “That sounds lovely. We’ll come over at noon and spend a few hours.”

“Wonderful!” Arthur said heartily. “That’s it settled, then. Come, Molly-me-love, let’s get you home for a cuppa. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Arthur. Molly. See you tomorrow.”

The couple left via the Floo, and Harry quickly and silently blocked it for all visitors for the rest of the evening as Rissa popped back in. “Young Master Jamie is still sleeping well, Master Harry, and Mister Prince is waiting in your private sitting room.”

“Thank you, Rissa. Can you please pop up a bottle of single-malt and classes? Your choice.”

“Of course, Master Harry.”

Rissa popped out, and Harry headed back up the stairs to his suite, hesitating at the door, feeling the stress of grief and family ready to overwhelm him. Was he ready to handle a relationship on top of all of this?

And then the door opened, and he saw Severus, waiting for him, reclining on the leather sofa in his Evan Prince glamour, eyes closed. Harry thought, perhaps, with Severus, he could handle just about anything.

However, he did decide, in that moment, that Molly Weasley, much as he loved the woman, now had a new nickname, at least in his head:

Molly Weasley, cockblocker.

He snickered, and the small, happy sound caught Severus’ attention. Severus opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow, before asking, “Is all well?”

Harry moved into the room, picking Severus’ feet up off the sofa to seat himself, placing the feet back into his lap. “Moderately. Arthur took Molly home. Tears, grief. I love her, I do, but she does have a tendency to want to smother family, and I had to nip that in the bud now. Or I’d never have a moment’s peace.”

“She’s always been fiercely protective of family, especially once her brothers were killed,” Severus noted. “I wish I could say I was surprised that she showed up here tonight.”

“Molly has a dreadful habit of just dropping in and trying to take over with the grandchildren. Fleur and Bill have blocked their Floo. I told her tonight I’d do the same if she couldn’t bring herself to make arrangements in advance to visit. Then she broke down over Ginny, and I offered to bring Jamie over for lunch and a visit tomorrow at the Burrow. Charlie’s home. It’ll be good to see him.”

Severus felt a mild stab of jealousy. “Single, unattached, gay Charlie Weasley?”

Harry raised an eyebrow of his own. “Jealousy. Interesting. Bond side-effect? Because I now consider myself neither single nor unattached. And there never has been that kind of interest between Charlie and myself. Though now that you mention it, Molly might have something like that in mind.”

Cheered a bit by the notion that neither Severus nor Harry were single or unattached, Severus sat up, moving his feet to the floor and scooting in to take Harry into his arms. “It might be a bond side-effect,” Severus admitted. “But I like being assured that we, neither of us, are not single any longer.”

“We’re bonded, Severus,” Harry said softly, looking up and into his eyes.

“We are. And we decided to be partners, did we not?” The low, deep purr of Severus’ voice made Harry shudder again.

“You did that on purpose,” Harry noted amiably, letting the rush of sensation fill him with the sound of his partner’s voice.

“Slytherin …” Severus noted. He dropped his glamours and looked into Harry’s eyes with his own. “And now that I know you like it ….”

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry said, and their lips met again, and the deep sensation of rightness as their tongues met filled him even as Severus brought them both back down, prone, with Harry on top this time. Their bodies met at hips and chest as Severus drew his hands down Harry’s back. Harry framed Severus’ face with his own hands, stroking his cheekbones, before devouring his mouth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our boys discuss boundaries and compromise on smut.

Chapter 11--Defining new territory

Panting, Harry broke off the kiss and simply leant his forehead against Severus' cheek, striving to catch his breath. Severus stroked his hands down Harry's back, relishing the feel of the lean, toned body on top of him, trying not to thrust up and scare him off.

  
"Harry," he said softly, "are you ready for this?"

"Sex, you mean," Harry's words were barely audible as his face was still muffled into Severus. 

"That, yes, but more, I guess, I mean intimacy," Severus murmured, continuing the soothing stroking of Harry's back. "I've not been truly intimate with, well, anyone, and sex can be a completely different thing. I suspect what we have here, bonded, partnered, is much more than either of us has ever had before. Are we ready to pursue it? To cross that line and share our bodies as well as our souls, hearts and magic?"

"Why are you still talking, and not snogging the life out of me?" Harry replied impatiently, moving up slightly, a miniscule shift of his hips aligning his clothed cock with that of the man below him. "I want you so badly, Severus. I have, I think, for a very long time, and now that you're here, alive, underneath me, BONDED to me, I can hardly think for wanting you."

Severus laughed breathlessly as he thrust his hips up minutely, relishing in the contact. "Gryffindor."

"And proud." Harry shifted his hips, then raised himself up to look into Severus' eyes. "I want this, Sev. I need you. And I know we'll have things to sort out--for Merlin's sake, you're officially dead--but I don't want to deny us any longer." He paused, swallowed, and looked away. "If you don't, that is."

Severus reached up, genty grasped Harry's chin, and forced him to look back into obsidian eyes. "I want you, too, Harry. I only want us to think a moment before we get too caught up. You're stressed and more emotional than usual. I only want to know for myself, for us, that we want this, together. I don't want to rush you into physically bonding if you're not emotionally ready for it."

"This would be so much easier if you just swept me away," Harry grumbled, settling himself back down and curling himself up on Severus' chest.

"Easier, maybe," Severus admitted. "But not wiser." He resumed the slow stroking of Harry's back. "I've had time, the last few years, to realize how I felt, accept that I could never pursue any of those feelings, bury them deeply, and recover from the horror of the war. In one night, I've discovered that my feelings were returned and I magically bonded to you. It's a little surreal. I can only imagine how you must be feeling."

"Lost," Harry whispered. "Lost at sea, with only you as my anchor."

Severus could say nothing to that, holding Harry closely as the younger man calmed. A soft pop announced the arrival of Rissa with a bottle of aged single-malt whiskey and two glasses. She said nothing as she set them out on a short tea table and snapped her fingers for a plate of ginger biscuits and another of fruit and cheese. "Thank you, Rissa," Severus said softly. The elf nodded and smiled, then popped back out.

"Come, Harry, let's have our after-dinner drink and dessert, shall we?" Severus coaxed. "I promise to snog you senseless afterward if you still want me to."

Harry hugged Severus briefly, then slid off his body and the couch, landing on the floor on his bum in front of the tea table.

Severus sat up, then reached down to pick Harry up and slide him back into his lap. They sat for a moment, basking in each other, before Severus reached for the whiskey and poured them each a finger. Harry picked up his glass, and the two sipped companionably for a moment, desire a low thrumming between them. 

Harry finished off a ginger biscuit before he spoke again. "I believe you're right in that we should think things through, but I also know that I will continue to want you, Sev. I can't imagine my world without you, and I physically ache with it now."

Severus sipped his whiskey. "I ache for you, too, Harry. I'm pleased to be your anchor, as I would like for you to be mine. But we control the nature of the bond that we're forming, and I want to know absolutely that we're bonded as partners. I'm afraid that if one of us is too needy or desperate, the bond will recognize that, and we'll be cast into dominant and submissive roles we might not want."

"Wouldn't magic recognize our intent, though, Severus?" Harry asked. "From what I know of such things, submission doesn't equate to needy or desperate. It's a recognition of care and a sign of absolute trust, if done correctly."

Silence reigned for a moment before Severus said, reluctantly, "I'm not sure I've earned that trust, Harry. I faked my own death. Before that, I had to treat you horribly. I don't know if I can fully understand why you would trust me to anchor you."

Harry thought for a moment. How to put this? "You have never lied to me, Severus, that I know about. You've played a role well, but I always knew that everything you did was in my best interest, even when it made me angry. You never physically hurt me. You saved my life so many times I can no longer count them. You were a stable force in my life that I needed, Sev. And I still need you." Harry stroked his thumb over the back of Severus' hand. "I would like to be there when you need me, too."

"Maybe we need to build some of that trust before physically bonding, Harry," Severus said, turning his hand over and lacing Harry's fingers through his own. "I barely know you as the young lord you've become in the last three years. I would like to get to know you better, and Jamie. There's no doubt in my mind that the pair of you are a package deal. And he just lost his mother." He paused, and looked deeply into Harry's eyes. "I want you. I want to be with you. But let's take our time and get to know each other as people."

Harry was silent for a moment more. "I wish that didn't make so much sense, Severus, because I'm dying to be bent over this couch right now."

Severus couldn't help it. His cock, already and still half-hard, jumped to full mast with a happy, "yes, please!" Since Harry was seated on his lap, there was no doubt that Harry felt that, too. "You're killing me, Harry," Severus said hoarsely. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had sex, much less topped?"

"Seeing as I've never been with a man, Severus, all I have is the fantasy," Harry whispered, leaning into Severus neck and blowing the words past his ear. "I really want the reality."

"I'm trying to be the voice of reason, here, Harry," Severus said desperately, fighting the urge to strip and conquer his young bonded. 

Harry ghosted his tongue over the shell of Severus' ear, breathing heavily on purpose. "Don't let me stop you from being reasonable, Severus."

He whined at the sensations running through his body at Harry's ministrations. "Harry, please ..."

"Severus, you've been incredibly reasonable and wise. I'm impressed. If you really don't want to make love with me right now, we can stop. Or, in the spirit of compromise, we could stop at full-fledged penetrative sex. I've read about something called frottage. What do you think about that idea?"

Severus snapped, picked Harry up from his lap, pressed him prone on the sofa and lay on top of him, pressing his hips into Harry's, lining up their cocks and thrusting, hard. "Acceptable," he purred into Harry's ear, then covered his mouth with his own. Frantically, Harry thrust up to meet him, the sensation of their clothed cocks rubbing against each other nearly too much. 

They rubbed against each other, frenzied, tongues thrusting in unison with their hips until Harry growled, low in his chest, and came. Severus followed quickly, and their frantic kisses slowed, gentling into soft, wet exchanges of mouth on mouth. Severus nuzzled into Harry's neck, and waving a hand, cleaned their pants. Harry squeaked at the sensation of the cleaning charm rolling over his crotch, making Severus chuckle breathlessly. "Sorry," he muttered.

"No, it's fine, good, actually," Harry panted out. "Forgot what it felt like to come in my pants."

"A little sticky, a lot uncomfortable," Severus agreed, catching his breath. "But in this case, oh, so worth it." He nuzzled more deeply into the crook of Harry's neck. 

"I completely agree," Harry said softly. "A good compromise." He paused. "Stay with me tonight? Just to sleep."

Severus raised himself up, seeing the vulnerability in Harry's eyes. "Anything you'd like, love."

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our boys work some things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter this time, but I wanted to wrap up the longest date in history before moving the story forward. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 12 -- Thoughts and repercussions

 

Harry thought it might be awkward, sharing a bed with Severus. He and Ginny had stopped sharing a bed when she got pregnant with Jamie. It was lonely, a bit, but they’d agreed it was best, as it kept Ginny from losing herself in the illusion that they were happily married and in love.

They both knew better, but the knowledge was painful.

Separate beds had helped.

But Harry found, now that he had a partner, he desperately wanted the closeness of sharing the space in which he slept.

“I don’t suppose any of my pajamas will fit you,” Harry murmured to Severus, who had tucked himself under Harry’s chin where they lay on his sitting room couch.

“Magic,” Severus softly replied. “If you’ll lend me a pair, I’ll enlarge them a bit.”

“Later,” Harry said. “I’m rather comfortable right here at the moment.”

“Hmm,” Severus agreed, loving the post-orgasm lassitude that gave him an excuse to cuddle with his young bonded.

Harry floated in a peaceful space, content with the moment, basking in the warmth of his new partner. “In all my fantasies about being with you, Severus, I somehow never thought about how wonderful simply holding you could be.”

Severus smiled. “Young men fantasize about wicked hot sex,” he intoned. “Older men such as I … well, we fantasize about wicked hot sex, too, I suppose, though this kind of closeness has often been a fantasy of mine, too.” He shifted a little. “I feel incredibly close to you right now, Harry.”

“And I, you.” Harry stayed silent another moment. “I’ve never had this before, Severus. I tried to have it with Ginny, but I could never be completely comfortable with her in this way.”

Severus nuzzled Harry’s neck with his lips. “She wasn’t meant for you. Or rather, she was, in order to give you that amazing young person down the hall, but I think you both figured out quickly that you could not be partners in the truest sense of a marital bond.”

“That we did,” Harry acknowledged, craning his neck a bit to allow Severus greater access. “Does it bother you for me to talk about her?”

“No,” Severus said. “She was your wife. She’s Jamie’s mother. She was an intimate part of your life. I’m not going to dishonor that.” He gently kissed Harry’s Adam’s apple. “Besides, I have something she didn’t.”

“A true bond,” Harry replied.

Severus raised himself up and looked into Harry’s eyes. “One I’m truly grateful for.”

Harry raised a hand and pulled Severus back down, meeting his lips with his own, and deepening the kiss when Severus responded. Harry shifted slightly, and splayed one hand behind Severus’ head, using the other to grip his arse. They kissed for long moments before Severus broke the kiss and whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

A pair of transfigured black silk pajamas for Severus, a pair of green silk pajamas for Harry, and the two cuddled down into Harry’s king-sized four-poster. Severus sighed in comfort.

“This bed is much more comfortable than mine,” he muttered. “That’s one thing I miss about Hogwarts. The beds were amazing.”

Harry laughed. “True. Every time I had to go back to the camp bed at the Dursley’s I wanted to scream. Of course, there were other reasons for that, too, but I barely slept there.”

Severus petted the silk over Harry’s stomach, wondering if he should ask. He knew, from those disastrous Occlumency lessons, that Harry’s home life had been borderline, if not outright, abusive, but he wondered whether it would be something he should bring up.

Harry solved his dilemma for him. “They weren’t bad people, Severus,” he said, responding to the unasked question. “They were ignorant, and terrified of magic. I won’t say I miss them or living there, but once I realized how manipulated they had been by Dumbledore, I forgave them. Dudley and I actually write on occasion.”

“You seem to have a lot of anger toward our late Headmaster,” Severus observed.

“I do,” Harry admitted. “I try not to let it bother me. I’d love to let it go. But I find it hard to forgive a man who placed me with such a family with only a note in the cold of November, tested me at every turn, and raised me to die. He was absolutely single-minded in his manipulation of my life so that I would be the one to eliminate Tom Riddle. In his own way, he had more to do with the culmination of the prophecy than even Tom did. And he kept things from me! My own heritage. Things people thought I knew but didn’t.” Harry took a deep breath, and Severus threaded his other hand through Harry’s hair, petting his head and his belly to soothe him. “I don’t dare talk this way among others, because in many eyes, Dumbledore was a saint. But no, I owe him nothing. Not even forgiveness.”

Severus continued his petting. “I told him the same thing the year he asked me to kill him.”

Harry smiled wanly. “I know. I saw the memory.”

“He gave me a chance, Harry,” Severus added quietly. “I allowed myself to be manipulated because he gave me a chance to help and protect you. I took no pleasure in killing him. But even I was not privy to the knowledge of your heritage. Had I known, I might have done something to prepare you.”

“I’m quite sure Dumbledore would have talked you out of it,” Harry said bitterly. “He was adamant that I not know anything that would distract me from his primary goal--making me his little weapon against Tom.”

Severus could say nothing to that, but continued his soothing as Harry turned to him. They faced each other, laying on their sides, tangling their legs together. A gentle kiss soothed Harry more than anything, and when the pair drew apart, Severus cleared his throat. “What of tomorrow, Harry? How will we work with this new partnership?”

Harry smiled softly, caressing Severus’ cheek. “Tomorrow morning, I will have to work for a few hours. There is legislation upcoming that I must familiarize myself with, and I will need to go over accounts with my steward. Then, Jamie and I must go to the Burrow for lunch and a visit. If you’d like, we can meet back here for an early dinner. You, me and Jamie. We’ll have a lot to talk about.”

“Evan Prince, for one,” Severus said. “Legally, Severus Snape doesn’t exist.”

Harry nodded. “We need to research bonds, too, Severus. I know--I can feel--that we’re closely connected by magic, hearts and souls. My body really wants to complete the physical bonding, too.”

“A full partnership bond between men might be challenging,” Severus mused. “There’s always a dominance to establish, based on who tops. There might be a ritual that can help us focus a partnership bond. I can spend some time researching tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to take anything away from your own working day,” Harry protested.

“This is more important, Harry,” Severus said. “I’m caught up on my current orders, anyway.” He paused for thought. “Though I suppose as part of that research we should actually talk about sex.”

Harry blushed a bit. While not a virgin--he and Ginny had conceived Jamie the natural way, with a little visualization help--he had not had sex with a man. The overwhelming urge he’d had earlier to be filled by Severus made a sudden reappearance. “I’ve not had sex with a man, Severus, but I feel as though I’d like to bottom. I’ve had sex with a woman, and I’d have no problem topping, either, but I really want to feel you in me.”

Severus could not help the sudden arousal. “Harry, I would love to be in you. I have done both, and I have most recently been the ‘bottom’ in a very unhealthy situation, but I would bottom for you, too.”  

“Partners in this, too, then?” Harry asked.

“We can take turns if you’d like,” Severus said softly.

“Deal,” Harry replied, and leaned forward to kiss him goodnight.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which bondings are researched, and excessive hyphens are used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit late, but a bit longer as well. Been sick, ugh. Still shooting for another update this week, so you'll get TWO whole chapters. Sighing_Selkie, your comments are keeping me going! Thanks.

 

Chapter 13--A new day

 

Harry bid Severus goodbye the next morning with a kiss and a cuddle before he made his way to Jamie’s room.

“Good morning, me love,” he crooned to his son, who was gurgling in his cot, happily waiting for morning snuggles. Harry picked him up, nuzzling his cheek, before checking his nappy--clean, Rissa must have been in earlier--and moving toward Jamie’s wardrobe to find him clothing for the day.

“Today we’ll go see your gran, Jamie-me-lad,” Harry told him. Jamie listened solemnly. “And that means we need to find something sturdy but nice looking. How about these dungarees? And this Gryffindor t-shirt?” Jamie cooed in response. “Well then, let’s get you dressed and fed.”

Rissa popped into the room. “Breakfast be ready when Master Harry wants it, sir.”

“Thank you, Rissa. Did Jamie eat this morning?”

“Not yet. He woke up just a few minutes ago. I changed his nappy and went down to start breakfast, Master Harry,” Rissa said.

Harry nodded. “A good way to start our day,” he said, finishing Jamie’s ensemble with Gryffindor-red socks. He picked his now-dressed son up, settled him on his shoulder, and started his walk down to the dining room.

Rissa hesitated. “Will Master Prince be joining you?”

“Oh, no, sorry, Rissa,” Harry said. “He’s going back to his home this morning to work, but he’ll be here for dinner again. Surprise us. I have work this morning that I’ll do in my office here, then Jamie and I will be going to The Burrow for lunch and a visit. We’ll be back by tea-time, if all goes according to plan.”

“Very well, sir,” Rissa acknowledged. “I’ll be setting up the travel cot in the office for Master Jamie, then.”

“Perfect,” Harry said, thinking ahead to a pleasant morning with Jamie and his paperwork.

Who knew that he’d actually like to read through legislation, study law, social issues and history, and manage wealth?

xxx

Severus returned to his home, checked the long-term potions in stasis, then turned to his library to look for more information on bondings. A tray of tea and scones popped into existence on his library desk as he sat down to it. Startled, he looked the tray over and found a note.

_Rissa worries. H_

Severus snorted. Already being taken care of by the Potter elves. Bond thing?

Probably, he discovered after spending his morning sifting through his books. He had spent considerable time, once upon a time, researching bonds in an effort to break the one that had connected him to Voldemort. He’d not paid a great deal of attention to naturally occurring bonds, but he found that many of those works he’d purchased at the time had information about the phenomenon. As he’d suspected, in a naturally occurring bond like the one between himself and Harry, magic reads the intent of the couple in question and forms the bond based on that intent as well as on the compatibility of magic.

Basically, their magic fell in love and dragged them along for the ride, Severus mused. That ride had likely started when Severus first met the 11-year-old, aided by his personal vow of protection to the lad. Now that the pair were both adults, their magic took advantage of their mutual interest and bonded them the second it could do so.

Severus found a little on same-sex bondings, with notes that most were sibling bonds, used to support friends with compatible magic, handy in crisis situations. Severus wondered if Harry had such bonds with Ron and Hermione, given their pasts together. He suspected Harry at least had a sister bond with Hermione. He wasn’t sure about Ron, though, given how often that young man had rejected Harry’s friendship in stressful situations. It was obvious to anybody watching the so-called Golden Trio that one of its members wasn’t always fully committed to his friends, though they always seemed to make up. And, of course, Hermione had married Ron.

Severus wondered, for a moment, if Harry felt like a third wheel in the Trio. Or how Ron adapted to Harry’s newly known status as nobility. There didn’t appear to be tension between Ron and Harry at Ginny’s funeral, but then again, circumstances were hardly normal.

Harry. His Harry, gone through so much in such a short period of time, losing a woman who he likely was bonded to as a sister, the mother of his child.

Severus’ skin warmed for a moment, remembering the white cage of light that had sunk into it with their first kiss, and he shivered at the sensation, letting himself remember, for a moment, all that had followed.

He couldn’t wait to get back to his bonded. But they had been wise to delay their physical bonding, he discovered. How they went about it would affect their roles in the bond, as he suspected. Of the same-sex bonds that were not sibling-oriented, Severus found that most had a dominant/submissive aspect to them. Full partnerships could be difficult to achieve, because, again, magic at the time of the bonding reads the intent of the couple. Bondings of same-sex couples usually occurred between two who already had, for one reason or another, established an unequal relationship in some way, through noble status, age, or --Severus shuddered--purity of blood.

He wondered if that would change, and pondered a study of more contemporary pairings.

Still, he and Harry were fairly equal along most lines. Severus was older, so magic could read him as a dominant partner. Harry was noble, so magic could read _him_ as the dominant partner. Severus had a mundane parent; Harry had a mundane-born parent. Without the clear intent of both Severus and Harry to be equal partners in their relationship, based on what Severus was reading, it was likely that magic would determine Harry to be the dominant partner, based on parentage and nobility.

Could he live with that?

Severus thought about it. Nothing in any of his reading suggested that bonding changed personalities. They would still be Harry and Severus, Severus and Harry. Noble and potions master, teacher and student. Yin and yang.

He pulled a parchment over to him, noting his tea had long gone cold, and checking the time. Well after noon. He’d gotten caught up. Again.

So, a quick note to Harry, and he’d check his potions and get a bite to eat.

xxx

Harry saw Severus’ owl coming toward the window of The Burrow. Lunch had been great, the usual Weasley circus somewhat tempered by the loss of one of its members, and the quiet visit with Charlie after had given Molly a chance to cuddle and play with Jamie. As the owl landed near Harry and extended its leg, Molly looked up from her grandson to ask, “Now who’s sending you post?”

Harry smiled warmly and lied. “It’s probably business.” He detached the note from the owl, who stayed put while Harry reached into his pocket for owl treats. “I keep these on me at all times, now,” he said, handing them over. “Waiting for a reply?” The owl hooted importantly.

_Just Harry,_

_We were right to wait. Without clear intent and instruction, dominance is established by magic, and not in the way we were thinking. A focused bonding ceremony would probably do. We should talk more about this._

_Don’t suppose you know the etiquette for a same-sex noble bonding?_

_Having a productive day. Miss you. Hope you and Jamie are well._

_He-who-forgot-to-eat-lunch-while-he-was-researching_

_P.S. I shall thank Rissa for the scones when I arrive this evening. Same time?_

Harry snorted. Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Oh, no, just a quick response needed. Nothing serious,” Harry lied again, then reached for a quill to scribble below Severus’ note.

_HWFTELWHWR,_

_Really, eat lunch. It’s good for you. Rissa will worry._

_Not a clue about noble same-sex bonding ceremonies, though I know they exist. They’re also pretty rare, given the purpose of most noble bondings is heir creation. Since I have an heir, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’d have to ask Lucius. And won’t that be fun._

_Did you just ask me to marry you via owl?_

_Tut, tut._

_See you tonight at 6._

_Just Harry_

 

xxx

Severus looked up from his sandwich to see his owl swoop through the open window. He read the note, then gave a snort of his own.

_Just Harry,_

_I suppose I did. I shall have to do better, for etiquette’s sake._

_I’m eating a roast beef sandwich, so Rissa doesn’t need to worry. I’ll save room for dinner._

_I’d rather not deal with Lucius again, but he is your official source for such things, isn’t he? And a solicitor. Which I might need should I publicly bond with you. Evan Prince exists, but do you really want to marry him? Or Just Severus?_

_I’ll see you shortly._

_He-who-should-have-purchased-flowers-or-some-such-rot_

xxx

Harry stepped through the Floo in his office at Potter House, Jamie in tow, to see Severus’s owl returning to him. He set Jamie down in the travel cot and picked up the note.

He read it through, laughing a bit at Severus’ clear consternation with himself, then wondered. Could Severus Snape come back from the dead? Should he? Or would he need to be Evan Prince, glamours and all, for the rest of their lives together? Because Harry had no doubts. None at all.

He and Severus were meant to be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a plan develops. And there's some fluff. Maybe a little insight. You'll see.

Chapter 14: The problem with being dead

 

Severus stepped out of the fireplace in Harry’s office, flowers in one hand and a book in the other, to witness his bondmate tickling the baby.

Jamies’ giggles appeared to be infectious, as Harry giggled right along with him.

“Now that’s a lovely sight,” Severus said, smiling.

“Severus!” Harry called. “Come join us.”

Obliging, Severus lay his offerings on Harry’s desk and took his place on the carpet next to the giggling pair. “What’s the game, then?” Severus asked.

“Just wiggles and giggles,” Harry said breathlessly. “I tickle Jamie, he giggles, it makes me laugh.”

“And who tickles you?”

“No one. I’m much too dignified.”

With a whoosh, Harry found himself on his back on the floor as Severus’ fingers attacked his sides brutally, and he shrieked with laughter. Jamie started shrieking, too, and a for a moment, all was madcap hilarity in their corner of the world.

None heard the soft pop of Rissa apparating into the room, or saw the indulgent smile on her face before she hid it, catching their attention with a snap of her fingers. “Master Harry, Mister Prince, it’s not good to excite Master Jamie so close to his bed time.”

“You’re probably right, Rissa,” Harry acknowledged ruefully, sitting up and gathering up his son, who was still excitedly wiggling, those his shrieks died down a bit as his father held him.

“I suppose that’s logical,” Severus admitted. “I’ve not had a great deal of experience with babies, but it seems to me the laughter is also important to their emotional development.”

Harry looked at him slyly. “Then I think we all need more of it, don’t you?”

Severus laughed at that, a deep, rich chuckle that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “We most assuredly do. Not getting enough giggles in early childhood will lead to morose, mean-spirited adulthood. As I have cause to know. When I shed my former life, I resolved to shed that mean-spirited man, so now I must seek out giggles.”

“It’s a mission,” Harry nodded, playing along.

“Like Star Trek.”

Harry’s eyes widened a bit. “You know Star Trek?”

“My late, unlamented father was a fan,” Severus said. “So, Harry, care to help me with my mission to seek out new worlds--of giggles?”

Harry cuddled his son, who was settling down on his left shoulder, and raised his right hand to stroke Severus’ cheek. “If you’ll help me. We can find a lifetime of them.”

Severus leaned into Harry’s touch, then leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Harry’s mouth, before adding another chaste kiss to Jamie’s forehead. “I quite like the sound of that.”

xxx

They settled Jamie down, fed him his supper, and put him to bed, before adjourning to the family dining room for their own dinner. As rare steaks popped into existence on their plates, Severus smiled broadly. “You remembered.”

“It was only yesterday you told me you liked a good rare steak.” Harry paused as he poured a nice, deep red wine out into their respective glasses. “Though it seems longer.”

“It does.” Severus sipped his wine. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry blushed a bit. “I just want you to be happy coming here for dinner.”

“I am.”

For a moment, quiet settled on them as they ate, savoring the steak and the accompanying roasted potatoes and asparagus. Fresh rye bread rolls rounded out the menu.

“This is much better than trying to remember to cook for myself,” Severus commented.

“Yes, now what is this about forgetting to eat while researching?” Harry asked. “Hermione gets like that. I suppose I should expect it from you, but you need to remember to break for meals. We don’t need you sick.”

Severus took the mild scolding with good grace. “Normally I set some sort of an alarm to remind me to break while I’m researching, but I didn’t expect to be quite so absorbed in the morning’s work. The research on naturally occurring bonds was fascinating. The biggest information I found was that we can guide magic toward our wishes through ritual, but in the end magic makes the choice for us. If we decide, as we complete a ritual bond, that we will be equal partners, that’s the form the bond will take. Otherwise we leave it up to magic to decide.”

Harry pondered that. “And a ritual bonding…does that have to be done publicly?”

“It would automatically be recorded by the Ministry, so no, not necessarily. As applied to us, though, it might be problematic to see ‘Severus Snape’ show up on the bonding registry, seeing as how he’s dead.”

Harry sat back with his glass of wine, taking another sip. “How deep is the Evan Prince identity?”

Severus shrugged. “Deep enough. I established the name and the credentials years ago, and I’ve been working under that name supplying potions for more than a decade. It’s a false identity, but it’s rock solid. However, my birth name is still Severus Snape, and that’s what shows up magically.”

“More than a decade, so the name ‘Evan Prince’ would have been attached to you while I was at Hogwarts?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you’re right. Magical items still recognize you as Severus Snape. The Marauders’ Map of Hogwarts always identified you that way.”

“It did?”

“Yes.”

Severus sat back with his own wine, the brooding look in his eyes familiar to Harry. “Then it seems to me we have a few options.”

“Name them,” Harry prompted.

“One, I could re-emerge as Severus Snape. Trials, fuss, publicity.”

“Ugh.”

“Precisely. Two, I could try to perform a naming ritual to magically change my name to Evan Prince. That would require my magical adoption by a prospective parent who could name me. That also might change some of my physical appearance, though as I am an adult, it’s unlikely there would be substantial changes. We’d also have to find someone to ‘parent’ me, knowing my original identity.”

“Hmm. It has possibilities, though I dislike the idea of changes in your physical appearance. I quite like my Severus.”

Severus blushed himself a bit, unused to compliments about his looks. “Third, we could let me hide, and not bond publicly.”

“You haven’t even asked me officially, yet,” Harry pointed out. “And I refuse to not bond with you.”

“I brought you flowers,” Severus admitted. “I planned to ask you officially this evening.”

“And I plan to say yes when you do,” Harry said. “I did a little research of my own today, and I discovered that second marriages in nobility with same-sex couples do have precedents. We should be able to manage the legal ramifications on my end quite well, though you would have a title.”

Severus choked on a sip of wine. “Title?”

“You’d be Lord Consort Potter.”

“Da would turn over in his grave,” Severus muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, just thinking about how my blue-collar muggle father would react to his worthless son marrying nobility,” Severus said quietly. “He hated magic, but he hated the nobles more. Why should they have everything, and we have to work for every scrap? He was a union man, through and through, and would rather a punch in the face at the pub than a favor from a lord.”

Harry was taken aback, but shook it off. “It’s just me, Severus.”

Severus looked up swiftly, meeting Harry’s eyes. “It’s fine, Harry. Sometimes I just remember what a true bastard he was, is all, and he’d find all this very strange.”  He snorted. “Like I care what he’d think.” He reached out and picked Harry’s hand up from where it rested on the table, lacing their fingers together, feeling the hum of their magic as it intertwined. “This is real. What we have here...I wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything. And I’m willing to do what’s necessary to make this work.” He smiled softly at Harry. “Partner.”

Harry smiled back, squeezing their fingers together. “Partner.”

Severus took a deep breath. “I think it would be best if Severus Snape stayed dead. If we can find an appropriate person to take into our confidence, a naming ritual would give me a new name, may even change my appearance slightly, and I could be at your side. My name would change again, it appears, to Potter, regardless of ritual.”

“Are you sure, Severus? This is a big step for you. I gather you’ve had a peaceful life the last few years, and if you bond with me publicly, there will be less peace than you’d like.”

Severus was quiet for a moment. “May I keep my Wales cottage as my potions lab and retreat?”

“You don’t have to ask, Severus; it’s yours. Why would I have anything to say about it?”

“Because the title you just told me would be bestowed on me filled the last piece of the bonding ritual puzzle in for me. By its very nature, your nobility and title trumps my status, and I would be recognized as the ‘submissive’ partner. Everything I have would belong to you.”

Harry shook his head. “Not if we put a magically binding pre-nup together.”

Severus raised a brow. “Continue.”

“It’s something Lucius told me about when I wrote him this morning. He said same-sex bindings among nobles do have precedent, mostly as second marriages when an heir already exists--such as in our case--and in order to protect the wealth of the submissive partner, a binding magical agreement before the bonding would do it. We spell out what will continue to belong to you after our bonding in writing, file it, and you’d keep whatever was spelled out in it. You can have your cottage, your business, your lab--everything you’ve worked for, Severus. I’m not taking that from you. Ever. You more than earned it, and I have no right to take that away. Nor would I want to.”

Severus stood abruptly, moved around the table to Harry’s seat, and pulled him up from it. He took his mouth in a deep and bruising kiss, tongues dancing for dominance as they fell into each other. For long moments they kissed, pressed together tightly, until their lips softened against each other, and Severus drew back, then dropped his forehead against Harry’s. “Thank you.”

Bright green eyes close to his own sparkled with lust and love. “If that’s my reward, then you’re VERY welcome.”

Severus laughed softly, breathing him in. “Will you marry me, Harry? Will you be my partner for life?”

“With everything I am,” Harry replied. And their lips met again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Severus feels like a small bird. And other stuff.

Chapter 15--Will you be my mummy?

 

Snogging Severus now ranked number one in Harry Potter’s personal list of favorite activities. He tasted of deep, rich chocolate, laced with the red wine they’d had for dinner, and had a unique flavor all his own that called to every one of Harry’s senses. He didn’t want to breathe; he just wanted more of that taste, that feeling of presence, of Severus.

Breathing became necessary, though, and as they parted from each other again, Severus rested his forehead against Harry’s again. “I don’t know how I lived without this,” Severus confessed, mirroring Harry’s own thoughts.

“You won’t have to again,” Harry replied softly. He took a deep breath, settling himself. “But before we make this legal, we have to make you legal. Which means you need a new parent, love.”

Severus chuckled softly. “I’m imagining this old story of a small bird, lost in a field, going to all the little animals it encountered to ask, ‘Are you my mummy?’”

Harry drew back, laughing softly himself. “It’s more like, ‘Will you be my mummy?’-- isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Severus conceded, drawing back and taking one of Harry’s hands. “To the office, then? We should draw up a short list of those whom we might be willing to take into our confidence.”

“Lead the way.”

xxx

After some debate--Severus gave a flat “no” to the possibility of asking Lucius Malfoy--the list had been narrowed to just two people whom they both trusted, and who didn’t have red hair. Red hair was just too much to ask, Severus maintained, considering the possibility that some physical traits would be carried over in a blood adoption-naming ritual.

Hermione Granger-Weasley

Andromeda Black Tonks

“I know that Andromeda respected--respects--oh, this is going to get confusing--you, Severus, because we’ve discussed that. Teddy, my godson, is being raised by Andromeda as the heir of House Black, and she and I work very closely together to see to his needs. She knows your role in the war and what a good man you were--are--bugger. You know what I mean. Plus, she has black hair,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, and we hope to have retain some of my appearance, but not all, Harry. There’s no guarantees here. I might end up with grey eyes and curly hair. Of course, if Mrs. Weasley the younger is taken into our confidence … well, it looks like curls could be in my future either way,” Severus mused.

“It would be different enough, Severus. I know that Hermione would do it, though she’d probably want to at least enlighten Ron that she’d adopted her old Potions professor, and then it would be less private than we’d like. Andromeda would have no such restrictions,” Harry pointed out. “And, I suppose, if we need a third back-up, there’s Dowager Lady Longbottom.”

“At least she’s actually old enough to be my mother,” Severus said with a slight sneer, then shook it off. “Never mind. The ritual doesn’t care about age, so we shouldn’t. And a permanent physical change would be easier to maintain than multiple glamours, so using someone who looks different enough from me that a change is nearly inevitable would be helpful.”

“Sure you don’t want to go blond, then?” Harry joked.

“I will never allow Lucius Malfoy to have any degree of leverage over me, period.” Severus was firm on that point. “I know he’s been a helpful advisor to you, Harry love, but I’ve known him for years, and there’s too much bad blood and too many memories between us to make that a comfortable option.”

What isn’t he saying? Harry wondered. “That’s fine. I really didn’t expect you to go with Lucius, and I agree with your reasoning. Andromeda then?”

Severus nodded reluctantly. “And I guess we’ll just see what I end up with, physically.”

Harry moved over to where Severus sat on the sofa in his office, and climbed into his lap, tucking his head under Severus’ chin and curling his legs sideways over Severus’ hip. “I really don’t want you to change much, physically, Severus. I love the way you are.”

“If we move down this path, than a bit of change is inevitable, Harry,” Severus said softly, drawing his arms around him and squeezing. “I’ll still be me.”

“True,” Harry said. “And I want us to be together, so that’s what’s got to happen.” He sighed again. “I miss Ginny.”

Severus blinked. “Well, that was random.”

“Sorry.” Harry snuggled more deeply into Severus’ chest. “I just really wish she could see us. We talked so much about how we might pursue our individual lives and partnerships. Neither of us liked the idea of infidelity, but we were bound. And I didn’t want her to be miserable. We talked about it a lot, actually, after we came to the realization that we didn’t want  each other in that way.” He ran a hand down the Severus’ arm. “She would be thrilled that I found my significant other, and she’d be in on these discussions to make it work.”

Severus tightened his arms around Harry. “She was a good friend to you.”

“My best friend. You know, I imagine she’d be going through a list of all of her acquaintances right now, thinking about who might be best to blood-adopt you.” Harry paused. “Although, I suppose, if she’d lived, you probably wouldn’t even be on my sofa at this point.”

“I had no reason to suspect you were anything but happy in your life, Harry, and I had no intent to disrupt that life,” Severus confirmed.

Harry sat up and leaned back, looking into his dark eyes. “Things happen for a reason, I guess, and we may never know why. But I wish she hadn’t died. I’m selfish, I guess. I want my best friend here, and I want you, too.”

“That’s normal, Harry,” Severus soothed. “You miss her. It feels as though she should be here, particularly as it appears she’d have supported us, too. But we can’t change what happened.”

Harry leaned back into Severus, taking comfort in his embrace as the pair thought in silence for a moment. “Lucius did volunteer some information in his note, as well. I didn’t tell him why I was asking about same-sex bondings, but he’s not an idiot. He mentioned to me that etiquette suggested at least a six-month wait before a formal second bonding after the death of a spouse. And that’s pushing it.”

“If we have to wait, we have to wait,” Severus said softly. “We have rituals to perform first, anyway. And our physical bonding, while it will be recorded and logged by magic, won’t be public, anyway. We can delay a formal public bonding.”

“So the physical bonding--” Harry blushed slightly as he spoke-- “only has to wait until your name is changed by magic so that the new name is reflected on the log, correct?”

“As I understand it, yes,” Severus said, smiling at the blush. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t explore some other physicalities if we’d like.”

“Such as?”

Severus tightened his arms and stood, supporting Harry, bridal-style, as he made his way to the stairs. “Let’s find out.”

Harry laughed as they made their way up the stairs to his suite.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is introspection and mild smut.

Chapter 16: Pushing boundaries

“So,” Severus said, laying kisses along Harry’s neck, “we absolutely cannot engage in penetrative sex.”

“Hold on,” Harry said breathlessly, heat surging through his system at the feel of Severus’ lips against his skin. “Does that include oral sex?”

Severus chuckled, the deep vibration sounding along the sensitive bob of Adam’s apple on Harry’s neck, causing Harry to gasp. “No, just penetrative” --kiss-- “anal” --kiss-- “intercourse.” He nearly purred the last word into the vee of Harry’s shirt, and brought his hands up to undo the buttons holding the front of the shirt together. One by one the buttons came undone, and Severus kissed each scrap of skin revealed. As he got to Harry’s belly button, he lingered, tasting the building sweat on Harry’s skin, nibbling along the edges and tonguing the inside.

Harry moaned, lost in the sensations, helpless to anything but submit as his bondmate leaned up, got rid of his own shirt, and helped Harry out of his. They lay on Harry’s bed, smack in the middle, with Severus on top. Shirtless, he pressed Harry back into the mattress, covering him with his weight, and claiming his mouth again in a deep kiss. Harry ran his hands down Severus’ naked back, loving the feel of skin against skin. He shifted minutely so that his cock was aligned with Severus, and thrust up slightly to feel the friction of the older man’s length against his own. Severus gasped and broke the kiss, panting.

“Is naked too much temptation?” he asked hoarsely.

Harry whispered back. “I want to feel you.”

Not what I asked, Severus thought, but with a bit of care --

Harry kissed him again, deeply, and moved his hands down to where their lower bodies were aligned, unbuttoning the top buttons on their trousers. “Up,” he whispered against his bondmate’s lips, and as Severus shifted up, Harry unzipped their trousers, pushed Severus’ pants and trousers down, and then his own.

“Oh, God,” Severus breathed as air hit his backside and his erection lined up firmly, skin against skin, against Harry’s.

They breathed each other in for a moment, then began to move. Giggles as they slipped together, sweat and pre-come making things slick as they figured out the best moves, deep drugging kisses keeping their bodies connected as they rocked together. A nip to Harry’s ear, a deep growl of “come,” and the younger man arched up, letting go as Severus rocked down on him and came himself.

For a moment, all they could hear was their hearts beating.

A cuddle and clean pajamas later, Harry leaned into Severus, spooned up with him, tucked under his chin, comfortable and safe under the silk duvet.

“You’re spoiling me,” Harry whispered. “I’ll never want to sleep alone again.”

The deep sigh of contentment behind him offered full agreement. “Me, either.” Severus, contemplative, softly said, “Do you mind if I continue to sleep here? I don’t want to be presumptuous, and I do have my own home, and bed --”

“Severus,” Harry interrupted. “You are welcome to my home and my bed any time you wish to be here. I’d prefer it, in fact.” He wiggled around so that he pressed himself, front to front, his face inches from Severus’ own. “I’d spend every minute of every day with you if I could.”

Reassured, Severus kissed Harry’s forehead. “As would I. You can’t imagine how good it feels to know that.”

“I do,” Harry said, “because I feel the same.”

They lay together for a moment, softly kissing, before drifting to sleep.

xxx

With morning came a set of new routines. Severus kissed Harry and Jamie goodbye before heading to his cottage for a day of brewing, and Harry dressed his son in preparation for another day in his home office. The Wizengamot would resume meeting in two days, with pending legislation that would revise creature laws. Harry fully expected there to be a fight on the floor, but in the end, the changes made sense. The severe restrictions placed on so many currently classified magical beings left the magical world vulnerable to attacks such as that perpetrated by Voldemort simply by breeding resentment against authority. This, Harry believed, had to be remedied, and he was leading the charge, with the backing of several of the old families.

After feeding Jamie and eating his own breakfast, Harry settled Jamie into the play area, bounded by wards, in a corner of his office that could be easily seen from his desk. Jamie was sitting up on his own, though not yet crawling, and enjoyed playing with the soft toys that littered the space as Harry attended to correspondence and read through a proposed amendment to the proposal that would be debated on Monday.

He listened to Jamie babble as he wrapped up his notes on the proposal, then went over his steward’s report for the morning. Situation normal. Then, Harry took out fresh parchment and thought for a moment before writing Andromeda.

_Dear Andy,_

_Thank you for your kind words of support during this trying time. I deeply appreciate your presence in the lives of me and my family. As I write this, Jamie is playing in his corner space in my office, and his giggles make me happy._

_I have a favor to ask, one that should be discussed in person. Would you care to come to tea today? Or perhaps tomorrow, if today doesn’t suit? Please bring Teddy, if you can. I need a cuddle with my godson. I can’t believe he’ll be four soon!_

_Let me know if you’re willing. We’ll set for tea at 4, as usual._

_With love,_

_Harry_

_As usual_ , Harry thought, _I start out formally enough, but I always end up … gushy._ He rolled his eyes at himself, then sealed the parchment, called for an owl, and sent the note on its way. He hoped she’d be willing to “mother” Severus. Actually, he hoped she’d be willing just to accept Severus, frankly, but he’d take what he could get.

The speed at which his relationship was progressing sometimes caught him off guard. Severus already seemed to be so much a part of his life he could not imagine it without him. Of course, he’d known the man, in one capacity or another, since he was 11, so in a way, this had been a long time coming.

But to know him as a lover, rather than as a teacher; as a partner, rather than a mentor; these were new roles, and Harry’s easy acceptance of the changes astonished himself as much as it apparently astonished Severus.

Severus.

Harry tried again to imagine the pain and the pressure of the man’s life as a spy, torn between two masters and more loyal to a small boy than to either--a small boy who he’d had to consciously antagonize in order to protect him. What hell that must have been! Then, to finally have a measure of peace, to see that small boy become a man, and to realize that the small-boy-turned-man still needed him?

Why didn’t Severus run away screaming?

Harry grinned to himself. Perhaps because he’d prefer to stay with him and do more entertaining things that led to screaming?

 _Bad Harry_ , he thought, fighting the drift his mind wanted to take, to the physical bonding they’d yet to complete.

Harry couldn’t wait.

Thinking about it too much, however, was creating a bit of a wee physical problem, so he hastily started thinking about Hagrid in a tutu. Which led him to think about how he’d gotten that visual to begin with. Which led him to thinking about Severus--again.

He snorted. Jamie, startled at the noise, gave a little cry, and Harry gave up on work for the day in favor of playing with his son.

xxx

Severus spent a productive morning, making several small batch potions to fulfill orders, finishing one long-term potion that “ripened” that morning, and attending the others. He resolutely did not think about how sexy a sleep-rumpled Harry had looked that morning before Severus left.

Well, he tried, anyway.

Of necessity, Severus pushed those thoughts out of his mind so that he could pay complete attention to the potions around him. Giving the last one a final stir, he turned his attention to bottling and sealing vials, then magically sealing them in a shipping crate that he placed a special portkey on, sending it on its way to St. Mungo’s.

That done, he set out his lunch--an egg and salad sandwich--made a cup of tea, sat at his table, and let his mind drift a bit to the events of the past few days.

A new mum, at his age?

 _Worth it_ , he hastily told himself, _totally worth it_. He called up the memory of a sleepy green-eyed Harry, and gave a kind of full-body shudder. He would do nearly anything for the man.

And had.

Even before magic stepped in to identify Harry as his other half.

No, he would have no regrets. In the larger scheme of things, changing his physical appearance and his name was not even a real sacrifice, especially for what he’d get in return.

A partner.

Love.

A family.

He couldn’t wait.


	17. Tea with Andromeda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is tea, ice cream, and green beans. Not necessarily in that order. And probably not the most important part of the story, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late, but a bit longer to make up for it. Enjoy.

Chapter 17: Tea with Andromeda

 

Andromeda Black Tonks raised an eyebrow at her grandson’s godfather. “Pardon?”

Harry took another deep breath. “I’m hopeful that you’ll agree to blood-adopt and rename a man whom magic has chosen for me, in order to protect his original identity and prevent a scandal.”

“It sounded just as--interesting--the second time,” Andromeda said drily. “May I ask who this man is?”

Like Ginny, Andromeda knew of Harry’s preferences, and had provided counsel to both of the young newlyweds when they most needed it. That part of the question wasn’t a particular shock. But to blood-adopt the man herself? That called for a special kind of security. She frowned as she took another sip of tea.

“I would need your oath not to reveal his original identity, even if you don’t adopt him, Andromeda. I’m sorry; it’s just that important,” Harry apologized.

“It’s not Draco, is it? Please tell me it’s not Draco,” Andromeda pleaded with a smirk.

“No, it’s not Draco. But it is someone who had ties to the losing side in the last war, and who has gone to great pains to rebuild a life for himself. Neither of us expected that when he came to express his condolences, magic would bind us.”

Andromeda paused with her cup half-way to her lips. “Magic chose him?”

“Yes, and he’s played such a large role in my life already, that our reconnecting, however tentative, bound us,” Harry said.

Andromeda thought for a moment. Ties to the losing side? Probably a Death Eater. In hiding. But weren’t they all accounted for? Someone who faked a death, then. Of those who supposedly died, who was close enough to Harry for long enough that magic would recognize him as a bonded--

She inhaled sharply. “Severus?”

Harry’s hard-won mask stayed in place. “Your oath, Andromeda, please?”

She set the cup down, picked up her wand, and intoned, “I, Andromeda Walburga Black Tonks, swear by my magic not to reveal the original identity of the man magic has chosen for Harry James Potter.” Her wand tip flared. “There. Am I right?”

Harry retained his mask. “Yes. He faked his death and has been living as Evan Prince. You might have met him under a glamour at Ginny’s funeral. He came back for dinner the next day, so we could catch up, and, well, magic bound us, as far as we can tell, along heart and magic.”

“If you complete the bond physically, it’s automatically recorded and registered at the Ministry,” Andromeda observed. “I see. And that would mean Severus Snape would have to come back to life. I can see how that would be problematic.” She pursed her lips. “Are you sure you’d like me to be his magical parent, Harry? It would make him a Black, too.”

“You’re our first choice,” Harry assured her. “We’ve gone over several names, but we kept coming back to your stability and trustworthiness in our lives, Andromeda.”

“I assume he’d like to keep the name ‘Evan Prince’, then?”

“Until magic renames him Lord Consort Potter, yes.”

Andromeda thought it through. “As long as you’re certain, Harry, I’d be pleased to do this for you. I don’t know Severus well, but I do know that he deserves any amount of happiness that you two can share together. If this makes your lives easier, than so be it. But don’t let Lucius help plan the public bonding. I’ll do it. You won’t want anything ostentatious, and Lucius can’t help himself.”

Harry relaxed completely. “You’ve no idea how happy you’ve just made me, Andromeda.”

She smiled at him. “I think I do. Just let me know when you’d like to do the adoption, and Teddy and I will be here.” She paused. “How much chocolate do you think Rissa has given him?”

“Too much, I’m sure,” Harry giggled. “Let’s go rescue our boys.”

xxx

Harry’s eagle owl swooped through Severus’ cottage window just as he was finishing his shipping for the day. He paused, and pulled the note from the owl’s leg.

_Evan,_

_She’s agreed. Come home soon, if you can, so we can set a date._

_Can’t wait to be yours,_

_Just Harry_

Severus grinned broadly, then hurriedly tapped the portkeys on the shipping boxes, stuck his shrunken overnight bag in his pocket, and headed for the floo, sending the owl on his way without a message. “I’ll deliver it myself,” he murmured, as the flames in his fireplace leapt up, green.

xxx

Severus stepped into Harry’s office to the sound of baby giggles and bright, boyish laughter. Pausing, he looked around to see Harry wrestling with a small boy, whom he presumed to be Teddy Lupin, while Jamie looked on, clapped and giggled.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Teddy shrieked, his hair spinning rapidly through several different neon colors before Harry ceased his tickling, and the color settled on green. Teddy took several breaths, grinned wickedly, and said, “Bogeys!”

“That’s it, more tickles!” Harry shouted, and dove for Teddy’s ribs once again, setting off more shrieks.

Severus laughed himself. “At least the pair of you have your priorities straight.” Rissa popped in to take Severus’ bag and settle it in the master suite while Severus himself walked over to pick up the giggling Jamie. “Did you need tickles, too?” He quickly and lightly tickled the bottoms of Jamie’s feet, listening the giggles increase.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Teddy yelled again, catching his breath as Harry stopped. “Who’s that, Uncle Harry?”

Harry looked up. Severus looked like himself. “That’s Mr. Prince. He’s a good friend for me and Jamie, and he came here for dinner.” Harry squeezed Teddy and released him, then stood up. “Mr. Prince, may I introduce Teddy Lupin?”

Severus transferred Jamie to his left arm, holding him against his hip, then extended his hand to the four-year-old. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lupin.”

They shook hands solemnly, then Teddy grinned, fast and bright. “Do you like chicken? Because I think that’s what we’re having for dinner. Grandma said. She had to go to the shops and she said Uncle Harry would be more fun than the shops, so she brought me here to play with Uncle Harry and Jamie and eat chicken.” The words spun out quickly and Severus grinned back at the happy child.

“I do, indeed, like chicken. Your grandmother is smart to bring you somewhere you can have fun while she runs round to the shops,” Severus replied. “And I like all the food here at your Uncle Harry’s house.”

“Me, too,” Teddy said. “Do you like games? Because sometimes after dinner if Grandma isn’t back yet we play games.”

Severus melted a little more. “I do. I’d be pleased to join you if there’s time for games after dinner.”

Harry interrupted. “But first, there’s dinner. We’ll eat family style tonight, the four of us.”

The four made their way to the family dining room, which had been reset with a high chair for Jamie right next to Harry’s seat, and Teddy’s place was set across from Severus’ usual spot. Everyone settled into place, and dinner-- herb-roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans--appeared on each plate. Teddy happily munched on a chicken wing while Harry started spooning bits of potato and strained carrots up for Jamie to try.

“We just started trying Jamie on a few strained vegetables,” Harry told Severus. “The books all say to start with the vegetables first so that the babies don’t get too used to sweet things, first. We got a little off track in the last few weeks, for obvious reasons, but Jamie seems to like the change in his normal food.”

“Learn to love your vegetables, young man,” Severus said solemnly, then winked at Teddy, who giggled over his green beans, then took a big bite of them, chewing hugely.

Harry chuckled, too. “I think he’s getting more on him than in him, but we’ll top him off with a bottle at bedtime and he’ll be fine.”

Severus looked at Harry, and his eyes shone with the love he felt for the family at the table. “You are an excellent parent, Harry.”

“Yep,” Teddy added. “Uncle Harry’s the best. Can I have your wing, Uncle Harry?”

Harry laughed, and placed it on Teddy’s plate. “Have at it. Severus, could you please cut up my chicken breast so I can eat it while I’m feeding the baby?”

“Certainly,” Severus said, reaching for Harry’s plate. He efficiently skinned and stripped the breast from the bone and diced the meat before handing it back. Harry picked up his fork with his left hand and fed himself with it while feeding Jamie with his right. “How are you so good at that?”

“A bit of practice,” Harry admitted. “I often took feeds while Ginny did other things.”

“When will Auntie Ginny be back?” Teddy asked innocently.

Severus froze, and Harry did, too, for a moment. Then, Harry set his fork down and said quietly, “She won’t be coming back, Teddy. She went to stay with your Mum and Dad, remember. They needed her there.”

“Oh,” Teddy said, wrinkling his nose. “I wish she could’ve stayed here.”

The lump in Harry’s throat prevented him from saying anything for a minute. Severus cleared his throat, and spoke quietly. “We all do, Teddy. But we remember her, like we remember your Mum and Dad, and we know all three of them love you and Jamie very much. They just couldn’t stay, and so we have to learn to live without having them around.”

Teddy thought about that for a minute. “I know about Mum and Dad, and Grandma takes care of me. She said they didn’t want to leave me, either, but they had to. I know Auntie Ginny didn’t want to leave Jamie, either, right? But Jamie’s got you to take care of him, doesn’t he, Uncle Harry? And me, when I’m bigger. And you, too, Mr. Prince, right? Cause you’re a friend of Uncle Harry’s, and you like Jamie, too, right?”

“I do, indeed, like Jamie, Teddy, and I will help take care of him, too,” Severus said.

“That’s good, then,” Teddy said, and paused. “Do you think we can have ice cream for dessert? Auntie Ginny liked ice cream.”

“We can,” Harry said, turning his attention back to Jamie, who was cheerfully rubbing carrots into the hair above his right ear. “And maybe we add sprinkles, just because she liked them.”

“Yeah,” Teddy said contentedly. “Sprinkles for Auntie Ginny.”

xxx

Andromeda stopped by after the impromptu ice cream to pick up Teddy, who was noticeably drowsy, and greeted Severus with a smile and a handshake. “It’s good to see you.” She grinned wickedly, and Severus saw where Teddy got his own grin. “Son.”

“And you,” Severus said, grinning back. “Mum.”

Andromeda laughed. “I was a precocious 10-year-old, apparently. When do you want to make it official?”

Harry cleared his throat. “I checked the calendar. It’s best, according to the books I consulted, to do a magical adoption at the new moon, if it’s possible. The next new moon is next Friday. Are you free?”

“I am,” Andromeda replied. “Evening?”

“Yes; if you both agree, we can do the ritual and then have a celebratory supper,” Harry suggested.

“Sounds wonderful,” Andromeda agreed. “Good night, lads.”

“Good night, Andromeda.”

“Good night, Mum.”

She laughed, and popped away.


	18. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Severus reveals a previous dark relationship. WARNING for mention of non-graphic noncon/dubcon. Oh, and he gets a new mummy.

**Chapter 18: Rituals**

 

As the men began counting down to the adoption ritual, they settled into a kind of routine. Mornings, Severus popped off to his cottage to tend his potions and business, spending the day and coming back to Potter House before dinner. Harry tended to his businesses in the mornings, with Jamie playing in his carefully warded corner, and spent three afternoons a week at the Wizengamot, during which time Jamie enjoyed the company of Grandma Molly at The Burrow.

As Harry said, they’d try it out, see how it worked. The arrangement made Molly feel like she was helping--which, indeed, she was--and it gave Harry the time he needed to tend to legislative matters. There had been no repeats of unexpected visiting, and Jamie was returned promptly to his father when called for. Harry had hope that Molly could remain reasonable.

When Harry, Severus, and Jamie all returned home in the late afternoon--and Potter House had become “home” to Severus--the three spent quality time together, stocking up on giggles, as they put it--before the adults put the baby to bed and enjoyed their own alone time.

Because they felt the pull to physically bond so keenly, Severus and Harry slept cuddled together every night. Though they’d yet to go further than frottage and kissing, not wanting magic to bond them before they were ready for it, magic clearly was pushing them to complete the physical bond.

As Severus put it one evening, his mouth at Harry’s ear, “I want to bury myself in you and never let you go.”

Harry came on the spot. It was the voice, he maintained, though really, it was just the effect Severus had on him.

Both men knew they were playing with fire by being together so frequently, but they honestly couldn’t help it.

They also spent hours talking. Severus opened up about his working class upbringing and his abusive father; Harry talked about the bewildering process of learning to act as a noble. Severus shared the story of his solitary life in a Welsh cottage, healing and learning to be content with himself; Harry finally told the whole story of the Horcruxes and his death, after which Severus held him for hours, unable to let him go.

Severus did not want to think about how close they’d been to not having each other.

They talked a little about past relationships. Harry’s romantic history was sparse; he’d traded kisses with two girls before finishing a war, and hadn’t really gotten the chance to figure himself out before he was married to one of them. Severus admitted to hidden relationships with two boys at Hogwarts, and a fairly celibate life in the interim between the waves of the Voldemort war.

He wanted to leave out the war altogether, but in the end, Severus realized he had to share all of himself.

So one night, two nights before the adoption ritual was to be performed, Severus poured Harry and himself each a glass of single-malt, they took their places on their well-loved leather sofa in the master suite’s sitting room, and Severus cleared his throat.

“I appreciate that you’ve not really asked me about my deeds and actions in the war, Harry, and I know you probably know better than most the kinds of things asked of Death Eaters. But how much do you know about what I did?”

Harry sipped his whiskey. “I know you were a spy. I know that you were split between two factions that couldn’t be more different, two masters who batted you around like a tennis ball. I can imagine you were as battered as one, as well.” He took another sip. “You don’t have to tell me unless you want to. I love you, and that won’t change.”

Severus hesitated, then spoke. “I think I must, because I am afraid that some of that history still affects the way that I respond to relationships, sometimes. Especially physical ones.”

Harry didn’t like where this sounded like it was going, but nodded. “Tell me, then.”

Severus took a deep breath. “Voldemort liked to torture his followers when they displeased him. You know this; you’ve witnessed it. And those followers liked to take out their frustrations, in turn on each other, or those seen lesser. None of them were nice people, Harry, and very few had any compunctions about rape and torture. As the Inner Circle’s Potions Master, I was somewhat spared the worst of it, but that was also in part because of protection from a fellow Death Eater. Protection I paid for with my body.”

Harry’s hand clenched around his glass. “You did what you had to do, Severus. I don’t blame you for it.”

Severus squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly opened them. “I do. I blame myself for it. I let him take me whenever he wanted to, just for the sake of it being only one, and not many. A Slytherin deal, I suppose. It kept the worst offenders from making the attempt, as well.”

“Did he treat you well, at least, this person?”

Severus looked down. “Depends on what you mean, I guess. The first time, I wasn’t prepared for his attentions. I neither wanted nor accepted them. I was hurt. But then, he explained the bargain he wanted to make with me. Protection, in exchange for my willing cooperation as his body slave.” Silence.

“He raped you.”

“It could be argued he only raped me once.”

“No.” Harry said it flatly. “Every single time he made you have sex when you didn’t want to, he raped you.”

“I let him.”

“Because you were forced to.”

“Harry,” Severus stuttered out. “Please, I just wanted you to know, because as much as I want you, I’m not sure how submissive I can be to you. I want our relationship to start out clean, with no secrets. I don’t know myself how I can...” He trailed off.

“Tell me something, Severus,” Harry leaned forward and placed his whiskey glass on the coffee table. “What would have happened had you not accepted this person’s ‘bargain’?”

Severus closed his eyes again. “I would likely have been a body slave to most of the Inner Circle.” He paused. “I know this, intellectually, and the bargain was sound. And the relationship has been over since the end of the war, obviously.”

“Because he thinks you’re dead?”

“Because he died in the final battle. And if he hadn’t, I would have killed him myself before I let him touch me again.”

Harry gently laid a hand on Severus’ knee. “He was in Azkaban between the wars, wasn’t he? You said yourself you were mostly celibate during that time.”

Severus nodded. “Rodolphus--”

“--Lestrange.” Harry looked into Severus’ dark eyes and said, with conviction, “You made the choice of the lesser evil for your own self-preservation, and you survived it. You’re a survivor, Severus. And I love you. You don’t have to talk about it any more if you don’t want to, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. You did what you had to do in a terrible situation, and it was not your fault. Period. You worked behind the scenes for years to end the suffering, not just of you, but of everyone caught up in Voldemort’s terror. You were, are, incredibly brave, love. I honor you for that.”

Severus laid a hand over Harry’s, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“We’ll work through whatever bedroom issues arise from this, Severus, I promise you. I will never try to force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Harry affirmed quietly.

“I know that, too.” Severus took another deep, cleansing breath. “The first thing I did when I was healed enough, after the war, is a purification ritual to cleanse my body, soul, and spirit of the darkness that tortured me. It’s a solitary ritual. I found it in one of Albus’ old books while I was researching the Dark Mark. It wouldn’t work to take the Mark away, but with Voldemort, the catalyst for the mark, gone, it removed the magical taint from me. The rest … well, it helped me to feel free of the things I was forced to do. It helped.”

Harry opened his arms, and Severus moved into them. They cuddled, for lack of a better word, while Harry processed the new information, then said quietly, “I’m glad it helped.”

xxx

“In front of magic and these witnesses, as your mother by choice, I name thee, Evan Emrys Prince,” Andromedia intoned, stroking her thumb over Severus’ forehead, leaving a trail of her blood. “As I will it, so may it ever be.”

Magic took over from there, as a pulsing blue light spread from the center of the ritual circle and entwined both the newly named Evan and his new mother, Andromeda. The light pulsed and held, blinding Harry temporarily as it worked the magic that renamed his bonded. As it dimmed and fell, Harry looked eagerly to see what magic had wrought.

Evan remained tall and slim, well but lightly muscled. His skin was lighter, a closer shade to cream than he’d had before, and his hair, still black, now had a slight curl. His distinctive nose had shrunk slightly, slimming, though it remained a prominent feature on his face.

The biggest difference Harry could see was in his bonded’s eyes.

They were gray.

As the light dimmed, Evan and Andromeda stepped back from each other and closed the circle, thanking magic for its service. Once closed, Harry crossed the line to embrace Evan.

“Handsome as ever, love.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is family and binding, and we all get used to Severus' new name.

**Chapter 19: The Binding**

The chatter over a celebratory supper in the family dining room was light and happy. Teddy had witnessed the adoption, but as he’d only known “Mr. Prince,” it was deemed an acceptable way for Teddy to see and welcome in a new member of his family. In a magical way, Evan Prince had become Teddy’s uncle.

Having Teddy witness the adoption also helped him to see and recognize the physical changes in his Uncle Evan, so any confusion about “Mr. Prince” and his identity would be lessened, long-term.

It was a security hole, Harry noted, but not likely to be a significant one, given that Teddy didn’t know Evan’s original name. And as they’d framed the ritual as a welcome to the family, Teddy wasn’t likely to spill anything that would lead to deeper questions.

Harry planned to make his new uncle legal soon, after all.

“I like your new eyes, Uncle Evan,” Teddy said, peering into Evan’s face. “They’re all sort of sparkly.”

Harry chuckled a bit at the mildly affronted expression that comment provoked, while Evan replied, “I don’t do ‘sparkly’.”

“I believe you do now, Evan,” Andromeda laughed herself as Evan rolled his new, “sparkly,” eyes.

Evan’s eyes were a deep, dark gray, not the true silver that many of the Blacks claimed, but Harry sort of suspected the sparkle was all original Severus--his intended was truly happy.

“As I said, handsome as ever, love,” Harry said, smiling at Evan. He reached over and grasped a slender hand. “And you do look different, but the same. It’s hard to explain, exactly.”

“It’s because he’s still the same person,” Andromeda explained. “When magic bonds two together, it’s the core of the person that’s connected. It’s that core you recognize, Harry. I think you’ve accomplished what you wanted to do here. A glamour won’t be needed now. He’s himself, in plain sight.”

“If we’re all quite finished analyzing me,” Evan interjected, “I have a few gifts to present.”

“Presents?” Teddy squealed.

“Yes, for my new mum and nephew.” Evan reached into his pocket, pulled out two packages, and tapped them with his want to enlarge them. “For my mum,” he said, handing Andromeda the larger, silver-wrapped package. “And for my nephew.” He handed the green-wrapped package to Teddy.

The pair cooed and squealed over their gifts as Teddy ripped his paper off and Andromeda followed suit, a bit more leisurely. “Oh, Evan, it’s wonderful!” Andromeda exclaimed, looking at a cut-crystal vase.

“I’ve arranged for fresh flowers to be delivered to you every week. The vase is charmed to maintain the flowers’ freshness for as long as they remain in the vase. The first batch will arrive tomorrow,” Evan explained. “I charmed the vase myself.”

Andromeda leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift.”

“See what I got, Grandma?!” Teddy squealed, pulling out a small wooden train, painted to look like the Hogwarts Express.

“It’s charmed, too, Teddy,” Evan said. “Set it here on the table.” Teddy complied, and Severus made sure the pathway was cleared for the train to go the length of it. “Now tap it on the smokestack and say, ‘Take me to school!’”

Teddy giggled, tapped the smokestack, and parroted, “Take me to school!”

Smoke came from the chimney as the Hogwarts Express engines fired up and Teddy’s train sped down the table. Teddy laughed riotously as it braked shrilly just before it reached the end of its space.

“Now, if you do that somewhere that there’s no end, you’ll have to chase it down and say, ‘Vacation time!’ to stop it,” Evan explained.

Teddy picked up his train and set it on the floor. “Take me to school!” he shouted, tapping it again. The train took off, and the four-year-old chased it until he got close enough to touch it and say, “Vacation time!” It stopped. “This is fun, Uncle Evan!!”

Evan grinned broadly. “I’m glad you like it.” He reached for Harry’s hand again, and squeezed lightly. Harry squeezed back, and said, “We have one more gift for you two, Teddy and Andromeda.”

“Oh?” Andromeda asked.

“It’s not the kind of gift you open, but it’s a gift of knowing something,” Harry said, lacing his fingers with Evan’s. “Uncle Evan and I are going to get married on my birthday, and we’d like you, Teddy, to be a part of the ceremony.”

“Me?” Teddy asked. “What do I do?”

“You’ll get to present the bonding rings to us during the ritual that marries us,” Evan explained. “It’s a very important job, but we think you can do it.”

Teddy puffed himself up. “I know I can. Thank you!”

“Isn’t July a little soon for a public bonding?” Andromeda asked quietly.

“It’s March now, and my birthday is practically August. It’s close enough,” Harry said. “I don’t want to wait any longer than that.”

“If that’s what you want, Harry,” Andromeda said. “We’ll be there, with bells on.”

“Why do we need bells, Grandma?”

Everybody laughed as Andromeda tried to explain the Muggle expression to her grandson’s satisfaction, and Harry looked happier than Evan had ever seen him.

xxx

Evan and Harry peered into Jamie’s cot, and Harry put one gentle hand flat on his son’s belly, feeling him breathe.

“I always feel this need to just check,” Harry said. “Like if I don’t, I’ll miss something.”

Evan placed his hand over Harry’s. “I’m beginning to understand the impulse. He’s just so precious, Harry,” he said softly.

They watched and felt Jamie breathe for a few minutes more, then Harry withdrew his hand and leaned back into Evan. “You still feel like you,” he whispered.

“Look a bit different, though,” Evan replied, a little hesitantly.

“Still you,” Harry said, turning in Evan’s arms to face him, lifting his chin. Harry grazed his lips over Evan’s forehead, eyelids, and new nose before settling on his lips, parting them just slightly to engage him in a soft kiss. Their magic hummed under their skins, and when they parted, Evan drew his hands down Harry’s arms to take both hands in his own. “Come to bed with me, Harry.”

Harry smiled softly, and they led each other out of the room, down the short distance to the master suite door, and into their bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Evan had never shared his bed with anyone, not on a permanent basis. It seemed strange to him--in a good way--to know that he would share this bed with Harry, for the rest of his life. He let go of Harry’s hands for a moment to draw the duvet down, exposing the soft sheets, then he turned to start unbuttoning Harry’s shirt. Harry raised his own hands, then, and started the same task for Evan.

They undressed silently, helping each other out of their clothes until they were bare to each other, somehow more naked than they’d ever been before, though nudity was not new to them. Harry pressed Evan back onto the sheets, and continued what he’d started in Jamie’s bedroom, lightly kissing Evan’s face, placing kisses on his eyelids, his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline. Harry nuzzled into Evan’s neck as Evan caressed Harry’s back, stretching slightly to firmly cup Harry’s firm bum with his large, warm hands.

“Severus …” Harry breathed. “You’re still you. You smell like you. Herbs and sunshine and earth. Solid, steady.” He rose up to straddle Evan’s hips, then leaned down to capture Evan’s lips. “Mine,” he whispered, before taking his mouth.

xxx

In the Hall of Records, some time later, a parchment appeared, ready for filing the next day.

_Harry James Potter bonded to Evan Emrys Prince_

_March 3, 2003._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did the boys need their privacy, or should I attempt the outtake? There could be a flashback, people. What do you think? And yes, I looked at the lunar calendar for March. 3/3/03 was a new moon.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is reflection and consequence.

  
Chapter 20. Aftermath.

Harry woke, then stretched languidly, happy to feel the aches and mild burning of muscles that had gotten a good workout the night before.

Severus--Evan--had brought him such joy, such pleasure. 

“Happy with yourself?” Evan’s deep voice commanded his attention from the spot next to him. Harry opened his eyes to see the startling, deep gray eyes of his bonded focused completely on him. 

“Very,” Harry sighed, then rolled to tuck himself along Evan’s side, resting his head on Evan’s chest. “You?”

Evan smoothed a hand through Harry’s hair, then down his back, before pressing a kiss into his unruly locks. “I can truthfully say that I have never felt better in my life.”

Their physical bonding had taken them both by surprise, as with the first touches of Evan’s hand at Harry’s entrance, their magic had risen, encaging them in the white light they’d first seen the evening of their very first dinner. It hummed over their skins as Evan continued the work of preparing Harry for penetrative sex, and intensified as Evan breached Harry for the first time with his cock. 

Connected there, Evan and Harry felt as though a circuit had been completed, and their magic sang as Evan bent forward, rising over Harry to capture his mouth. They moved together, slowly, then faster as magic pressed them, their hearts, minds and souls singing together with their physical joining. As they came--Harry first, with Evan a close second--the bells they’d heard pealing with the touch of their lips that first night burst into a cacophony of sound. The white light caging them sank into their skins, and both men felt complete.

Whole.

Bonded, with one flesh.

Harry remembered it now, and murmured into Evan’s chest. “Was a bit noisy at the end, there, wasn’t it?”

“A bit,” Evan admitted. “Pretty, too, the light show.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Harry hummed into Evan’s chest. “D’you suppose that will happen again if we go again?”

Evan rolled them both quickly, then pressed his naked skin to Harry’s, so they met, chest to hip to knee, and kissed him, deeply. Rising up, he whispered into Harry’s ear. “Let’s find out.”

xxx

It appeared that the light show had been a one-time thing, though Harry and Evan agreed that the experiment had been a necessary and pleasurable one. 

xxx

In the Ministry Hall of Records, Millicent Bulstrode, in her capacity as minor clerk, collected notices from the inbox and filed them with the appropriate offices. Births, deaths, magical contracts and bondings all generated paperwork that then needed to be filed, and it took the work of two full-time employees to keep up.

Millicent, as a Slytherin, had enough cunning to stay out of jail--she’d never openly supported Voldemort, at any rate, as was clear enough--and get a job in the Ministry. While file clerk wasn’t the most glamorous job, the post meant that Millicent was often the first official to know anything about what was really going on in the Wizarding world--something she was careful to capitalize on.

So when Millicent saw the certificate on the top of her pile that Saturday morning, naming Harry Potter and a new bonded, her Slytherin heart pitter-pattered in excitement. 

So excited was she, making a note of Harry Potter and his bonded’s name, that she left the office in a hurry, intent on making the rounds to the Daily Prophet.

And missed the paperwork, an inch further down in the stack, that named Evan Emrys Prince the son of Andromeda Tonks.

That paperwork was filed by an elderly wizard, Martin Brest, on Monday morning. He took no note of the names involved--he simply didn’t care--but he did care that the weekend’s contracts and bondings had been left for him to file. Millicent’s failure to do her job resulted in her termination.

But she didn’t care.

The Daily Prophet had paid her for the story.

xxx

Harry’s first clue that something was awry arrived with his post at Sunday breakfast with Evan and Jamie.

“Lord Potter Bonds with a Prince” shouted the headline on his Sunday paper.

"Oh, crap," he muttered. "Rissa!"

The elf popped in. "Yes?"

"Block the Floo, please," Harry said, anticipating a flood of Weasleys.

Rissa's eyes glazed over for a second. "Done, sir."

"Please direct all post to my office, and have Tibby help sort it. Howlers to be disposed of, mail from unknowns to be searched and set aside, family mail set in the usual basket," Harry continued. "Standard news protocols."

Evan raised an eyebrow. "This kind of thing happens often enough that you have protocols for it?"

Harry rolled his eyes, handed Evan the paper, and concentrated on helping Jamie eat his rice porridge. "Unfortunately. Though I blocked the Floo mostly as a precaution against Molly. I'd hoped to introduce you more formally in a couple of weeks."

Evan read through the story. "There's not much here beyond the headline, just my name and the fact that the bonding certificate was available for filing Saturday morning. It names anonymous Ministry sources." He flipped through the paper, spotting a second story on page two that made him growl dangerously. "For the love of ... there's a story speculating on the suddenness of the bonding given your recent bereavement. Forget that it wasn't public; apparently, you're to remain in high mourning for at least a year before even thinking about touching another human being in any sort of romantic sense."

"None of this will surprise those closest to me," Harry murmured. "Well, the suddenness might. Nobody knows who you are, really, except that you were a childhood friend of my mother's. You were glamoured at the funeral, and we can simply say you thought it more prudent in a crowd of unknown people, given how much you look like your cousin Severus."

"Oh, is that our story?" Evan snarked. "We hadn't gotten that far in our explanations yet."

Harry shrugged. "We didn't know what you'd look like after the ritual. But the resemblance to yourself is striking. You look just different enough, but you do look like Severus."

"It's as good an explanation as any," Evan mused, flipping through more of the paper. "Prince is my mother's family name. Cousin works. I'll have been working in Wales and staying out of the war during the last decade or so."

"Gah!" Jamie shouted, interrupting their conversation so the pair would focus on him.

"Quite right, young man," Evan soothed. "We'll handle what comes, won't we?"

Harry giggled. "Alright, Jamie-me-lad. If you're shouting, you're likely done eating. And you've had most of this bowl, so I'm fairly content with that."

Jamie squealed and splatted a pudgy fist, palm down, into the porridge, making it splash over the table in a short burst.

"And thus ends breakfast," Evan intoned with a smile for the baby's antics.

"Indeed," Harry replied smugly, borrowing Evan's favorite expression of agreement as he summoned a clean, damp rag to clean up his son. "Good thing I finished my coffee, because I suspect the deluge will begin any time now. At least they can't walk right in to the family parlor, but have to go to the front door."

"I'll put on my best behavior," Evan assured him, as Tibby appeared to clear the table and deal with baby goop. Evan swallowed his own last sip of tea, then stood. "Receiving in the family parlor?"

"If they're civil," Harry said. "Weasley tempers being what they are."

Evan paused, then looked at his bonded, his eyes resolute. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, and who you bond with is none of their business. As they're your extended family, I'll be civil as long as they're civil to me. But I will not tolerate any rudeness toward you."

"Nor I you," Harry assured him. "Arthur and Hermione will remind everyone that a magical bonding can't be easily controlled. No, the bigger issue will be Molly, and how she'll feel about her son-in-law seeing someone romantically so soon after her daughter's death. I don't blame her in a way, but she's likely to make a scene."

"We'll weather it together, Harry," Evan said, then bent to kiss him, gently squishing a squealing Jamie between them.


	21. Unforeseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one unforeseen issue threatens everything.

Chapter 21 -- Unforeseen

 

Harry pulled out a new set of soft, quilted blocks in bright prints, and settled down on the floor in the family parlor with Evan and Jamie to show his young son how they worked.

“See, me-lad, it’s just like this,” Harry said, demonstrating by putting one block on top of the other. Evan, seated behind Jamie for stability, the baby resting in the vee of his legs, gently grasped one of Jamie’s hands and placed it on one of the blocks, showing him how to move it as Harry demonstrated.

Playing with Jamie had become a part of their routine when all three were home. Harry firmly believed in play as learning and bonding time, and each of the family rooms contained a stash of age-appropriate toys. Though the trio spent most of their time in the family parlor, family time also was found in Harry’s office and in Jamie’s suite of rooms.

Their play time this morning, however, was cut short--as they knew it would be--when the first of the unexpected/expected visitors arrived.

The “who,” however, was a surprise.

Rissa appeared at the archway to the family parlor and announced, “Lord Lucius Malfoy.”

As the aristocrat stepped into the cozy space, he looked keenly at the couple on the floor with the baby. “Harry. I hope you are well.”

“And you, Lucius.” Harry set the blocks down and rose, straightening his spine as he’d been taught by the main before him. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I thought perhaps you might be in need of counsel this morning, after I saw the unauthorized story in the Prophet,” Lucius explained.

“Thank you.” Harry turned. “May I present Mr. Evan Prince?”

Evan remained seated, holding Jamie. “Please, excuse my not standing. Jamie’s a bit wobbly when he’s playing.”

“Of course,” Lucius intoned.

“Evan, this is Lord Lucius Malfoy, my adviser and counsel.” Harry gestured to the deep, soft, plum-colored sofa to his right. “Please, Lucius, have a seat.”

“I will, then,” Lucius answered, easing himself onto the sofa with grace. “Busy weekend, I take it?”

Harry seated himself opposite. “In fact, it was. Though I didn’t expect that to be common knowledge this morning.”

Lucius inclined his head. “I suspected as much. Further to your queries of a few weeks ago, I thought perhaps some preparations might be in order soon, but this was a surprise.”

Harry shrugged. “Magic bonded us before we were ready to publicly bond. We’ll do so on my birthday. It’s a bit sooner than six months, but with the publicity there’s no need to delay, as far as I can tell.”

“None that I can see, either,” Lucius agreed. “The backlash here can be minimal if you choose to control the information.”

It was an old argument for the pair of them; Harry refused to work with the press and Lucius continued to press for an active partnership with them.

“In what way would you choose to control the information?” Evan asked, observing from his position on the floor.

“You could release a statement about the magical bonding taking you by surprise. It could be paired with a bit of a biography of you, Mr. Prince, to prepare the general public for the formal bonding. At any rate, there should be a response of some sort here,” Lucius said.

“Please, call me Evan.”

“Lucius.”

Harry cleared his throat. “While normally I would ignore the press, Lucius, as you very well know, I think, perhaps, in this case, you might, possibly, have a point.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” Lucius beamed slyly at his young protege. “Conceding I’m right?”

“I take it that’s not usual?” Evan asked drily.

“Not at all,” Lucius said. “Your young man can be extraordinarily stubborn about some things.”

“I’m not surprised,” Evan said, with a sly wink in Harry’s direction.

“Now, gentlemen,” Harry gestured, palms flat out. “I can certainly be reasonable. A short statement to the Prophet and the Quibbler is certainly in order.”

“Shall I write something up, then?” Lucius asked. “I’ve got the experience for such things.”

“You do,” Harry said. “With my approval of course.”

“Of course. So that means I need to know a bit about you, Mr. Prince.” Lucius pulled out a parchment and quill.

Evan and Harry exchanged a look, and Harry nodded to him. Evan cleared his throat. “I’m an old childhood friend of Harry’s mother. I looked in on him when his wife passed away, we had dinner to catch up, and magic drew us together. The bonding took us by surprise, but I’m very happy with it.”

“As am I,” Harry added.

“I see,” Lucius looked up from the parchment. “And can you tell me a bit about your family and your work?”

“I’m the last of the Prince family. Severus Snape was my cousin, and it’s through him that I met Lily Evans Potter. He also inspired me to become a potions master. I work in that capacity out of my cottage in Wales, fulfilling orders for St. Mungo’s and for private clients,” Evan explained.

Lucius’ eyes sharpened at the mention of Severus Snape. “And your side on the war? That will be asked, with such a connection, and with your bonding to young Harry, here.”

“I remained neutral,” Evan said.

“That would have been a challenge in and of itself,” Lucius commented. “Your cousin was Death Eater.”

“And a spy.” Harry interjected.

“I’m aware,” Evan said. “He sheltered me from the worst of it, cautioned me against joining Voldemort. Or staying out of it altogether. I did my best.”

“Where were you educated?”

“I was home-schooled, and took my OWLS and NEWTS through the Ministry.”

Lucius finished his note-taking, then leaned forward, steepling his fingers under his chin. “There are holes in this story that I could ride a broom through.”

“Well, that’s blunt,” Harry muttered. “Where, Lucius?”

“The Prince line had only one heir, Severus, who was disinherited when he acquired the Dark Mark. I’m not sure even he knew of that,” Lucius explained, eyes razor-sharp on Evan’s. “At that point, the Prince seat became dormant, until such time as a new heir was identified. I checked the lineage books before I came here today, and, to my astonishment, a new heir has been identified--Evan Emrys Prince. Why now, and not then? Because, clearly, the new heir didn’t exist until recently. Care to clarify?”

Evan and Harry shared a long look, and only Jamie’s babbling between them broke the silence. Evan gave a slight nod, and Harry raised his wand to cast privacy wards around the room in the event another visitor showed up before the conversation could be finished.

“Severus did not know that he’d been identified as an heir to the Prince estate and title,” Evan said softly. “Nor that he’d been disinherited. Had he known, that hole you mention in the documentation would not now exist. I can only speculate that I’ve been now identified as the true heir because Severus only magically ‘died’ two days ago, when I was magically adopted and renamed.”

Lucius sat back, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “You look very much like Severus. But you don’t bear the Dark Mark?”

Evan hadn’t thought of that. The Mark had faded with the death of Voldemort, leaving only a gray shadow on his skin that he rarely paid attention to. He sat back now, allowing Jamie to lean against one of his long legs as he rolled up his left sleeve and stared at his arm. Hard.

Not even the shadow adorned it.

“Huh.” Harry moved to Evan to look at the arm, too. “Not a trace. Do you suppose?”

“Must be,” Evan said. He rolled up his other sleeve, and left his forearms bared.

“With the magical adoption, the Mark disappeared entirely, as if you’d never worn it, and magic recognized you again as the Prince heir,” Lucius explained. “We’ll have to come up with a reason why magic recognized you now. That headline ensures I’m not the only one who will be looking toward the lineage books.”

“Lucius,” Harry said softly. “I hold you to your oath.”

Lucius sat back as if slapped. “That’s why I’m here, Harry. I knew there was more to this. I’m going to help you.”

“What do you gain?” Evan asked quietly.

Lucius leaned forward again, looking into Evan’s deep grey eyes. “Once, those eyes were black, and I trusted them with my son’s life. I trusted the man who ran Slytherin house and kept its children safe even while under enormous pressure. I respected and admired the man who spied for the Light, so perfectly, that none knew he’d done it. I’ve missed that man these past five years. I thought him gone.”

“He IS gone,” Evan said firmly.

“And I would very much like to know that man who has taken his place as my young friend’s bonded,” Lucius said quietly. “Please.”

Harry and Evan exchanged another long look, and Harry picked Jamie up. “It seems,” Harry said, “we have more to do.”

Evan stood up to pace in front of the fireplace while Harry set Jamie in his warded corner with his toys. “I did not want to be under your--or anyone else’s--thumb, Lucius. I did not want this to be a means by which you could control me. I will not be anyone’s tool, ever again.”

Lucius stood, too, extending his right hand to Evan. “What help I offer, I do so out of my own free will, and expecting nothing in return. My oath on it.”

Evan eyed him speculatively, then took Lucius’ hand. “I accept your oath.”

Light flashed, and it was done.

“Now that’s out of the way,” Harry said. “How do we explain the lineage thing without folks taking the same train of thought you did?”

“That’s going to require some thought,” Lucius admitted. “And perhaps some backdating of documentation. But I think your overall story will hold, if Evan is willing to file some paperwork.”

“What kind of paperwork?” Evan asked.

“Asking that you be recognized and installed as the Prince heir. Your grandfather’s will stated only that Severus would not be recognized as heir so long as he bore the Dark Mark. With your magical adoption, both your name--Severus--and your Dark Mark status were changed, so magic recognized you as heir. We could file paperwork tomorrow morning asking that you, Severus’ cousin Evan, be recognized as heir. We can explain that you didn’t know you could claim the heirship until recently, and once you recognized it, magic did the work.”

Harry scoffed. “How flimsy is that?”

“You’d be surprised,” Lucius said. “Magic has done stranger things. I think we can get away with this, since a blood test will still show you as a Prince descendant, though, perhaps, an illegitimate one.”

“Illegitimacy would also help explain why the heirship didn’t shift until the potential heir recognized the possibility, too,” Harry speculated.

“Your adoptive magical parent could remain private under the lineage laws if we claim illegitimacy,” Lucius explained to Evan. “Or, you could be Severus’ illegitimate brother, hidden from view in the interests of protecting the Prince line.” Lucius paused. “Actually, that might be better. You do look remarkably like Severus did, even with the new coloring and slightly altered facial structure.”

“It helps, Lucius, that Evan Prince has existed on paper since the late 1970s,” Harry added.

“Oh, good,” Lucius said. “That was clever, friend. And creates much less work now.”

“An illegitimate brother,” Evan mused. “That would make more sense. My mother would never willingly bring another child into that household, if she could help it.”

“And the information already out there about you, that you’re Lily’s childhood friend, also fits,” Harry said. “Hidden in the neighborhood, perhaps, until you were taken in by a foster family and homeschooled.”

“Much tighter,” Lucius said approvingly.

An exasperated Rissa popped into the room. “Master Harry, Mrs. Weasley is here.”

The sudden headache behind his eyes made Harry whimper slightly before he shook it off. “Neither of you heard that.”

Lucius smirked. “I’ll pretend I didn’t, for your sake. Let me go and draw up what paperwork I can. I’ll owl you a draft of the statement for the press, and we’ll go from there.” He paused, then looked each of them in the eye. “I’m on your side and in your corner.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Harry said, picking Jamie up and handing him to Rissa.

“Yes, thanks, old friend,” Evan said quietly.

“Anytime,” Lucius replied, then picked up his cane and strode for the door.

“Rissa, please take Jamie to his room and ward it,” Harry requested. “I don’t want him to hear the yelling.”

“Yes, Master Harry.”

“And let Tibby know he can show the Weasley’s in.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Molly asks painful questions, and Harry tries to give acceptable answers.

**Chapter 22: Painful Questions Need Answering**

 

Molly Weasley stormed into the family parlor with half her family at her heels.

“Harry James Potter, what is the meaning of this?” She tossed the Prophet at his feet and glared.

Harry calmly picked the paper up. “Please, Molly, Arthur, have a seat. Evan, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley?”

“Mr. Weasley,” Evan stepped forward, offering a hand. Arthur took it. “Mrs. Weasley,” Evan said, offering his hand to her. Molly looked at it, visibly upset, but politeness forced her to accept it.

“Molly, Arthur, may I formally present Evan Emrys Prince?” Harry took a deep breath. “My bonded.”

Molly stiffened as if struck. “Harry, my daughter is barely in the ground and you’re telling me you’re already bonded.”

“I am, though it’s not as simple as it sounds,” Harry said quietly. “Please, again, I urge you to sit so we can talk. Evan, the rest of these fine people are my extended family. Ron and Hermione Granger Weasley,” he indicated the pair, “my closest friends; and George Weasley, my friend and business partner.” Harry gestured. “Please, everyone, sit so that I can explain one time.”

Evan glimpsed tears in Molly’s eyes as Arthur took her arm and helped her sit on the deep plum sofa, as the others took places around the room. Harry and Evan remained standing, and stood together in front of the parlor fireplace.

Arthur cleared his throat. “We’re listening, Harry.” He held Molly’s hand and squeezed it when she started to speak. “Let him talk, Molly.”

Harry took a deep breath. “First, let me apologize for the way you found out about this. I have not publicly, legally bonded with Evan at this time; magic bound us, a record of that bonding appeared at the Ministry, and apparently, someone there leaked the document to the Prophet. I have yet to find out who. I’ve already been in touch with Lucius, and he is taking steps to help me manage the publicity and other legalities of what has occurred.”

“That doesn’t explain how you could be seeing someone new so soon after my Ginny gave her life to protect your son,” Molly hissed out.

“No, it doesn’t.” Harry hesitated. “We, both Evan and I, were taken by surprise ourselves by the speed of this bonding, and I know it looks a bit scandalous, but there’s nothing scandalous about it.”

“Harry,” Hermione inserted quietly. “The Evan Prince you introduced us to at Ginny’s wake did not look like this Evan Prince.”

Evan took a small step forward. “That was my doing. I was under a glamour at the funeral.” He hesitated. “I’m told I look a great deal like my brother, Severus Snape, and I didn’t want to cause more of a stir than necessary at the funeral.”

“Snape was your brother?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Evan said simply. “Our mother hid me from her husband and I was raised separately, for the most part, with another family.”

“You do look like him,” Hermione said softly, “but I would not have immediately guessed the connection.”

“None of this explains your actions, Harry James Potter,” Molly puffed up.

“Molly, I invited Evan to dinner after the funeral, to catch up, hear more about my mother, about the professor,” Harry explained. “We discovered an attraction to each other. I really had no intention of moving on so swiftly. But, well, I wanted to kiss him. So I did. And magic bound us. It was a white light that soaked into our skins. We later figured out that we had been bound along magic and soul lines.” He left out the heart bond, not sure if that would give away how long the pair had actually known each other. “With such a bond, it became important to figure out what it was, how to control it, and make some decisions about what to do about it.”

Evan picked up the story there. “We decided that if our magicks and souls were compatible, we should allow the heart bond to grow.”

“And we got a little carried away a few nights ago,” Harry blushed, deeply, both at his own dissembling and the subject matter. “The physical and heart bonds were completed.”

Everyone in the room knew what that meant, and Molly puffed up even more, practically boiling with righteous fury. “You had no businesses kissing anyone so soon after your wife was gone, Harry Potter.” She spit the words out. “Have you no respect for the dead?”

Harry had expected the question. In truth, he’d asked himself the same question many times in the first week after the bonding. But Molly didn’t know about the inner workings of his marriage. Few did. And only he could make the call about whether he respected his late wife or not.

“Molly,” he said in a low tone. “Ginny and I loved each other, but we were not lovers, except for the necessary to conceive Jamie. I will never say our marriage was a mistake, because that would be disrespectful to my late wife, and it would mean that I don’t value the son we have together, and neither is true. But we realized very early on in our marriage that we were not truly compatible. We should have waited a few years to marry; we would have figured that out. But we rushed in, in those days right after the war. We wanted normalcy, family. I needed help with my new role in the wizarding world. So we rushed to marry.” He took another deep breath and reached for Evan’s hand, unseeing as Evan took Harry’s hand in his and squeezed it. “And then I realized I was gay.”

Molly whitened. “So you mean to say my daughter was trapped in a loveless marriage to a man who didn’t desire her?”

“Not loveless,” Harry retorted swiftly. “Never loveless. I loved her deeply; she was my best friend and my biggest supporter. We agonized about this. But once a noble marries, that contract is unbreakable. We decided to make the best of it. She would be the mother to heir, with an option for more children if we both decided we wanted them. And we were working on ways she could have the life she always wanted--which was not, as she discovered, being Lady Potter.”

“But you didn’t desire her,” Molly pressed.

“Not in the way she wanted me to. Not in the way I wanted to.” Harry’s pain at the admission showed on his face.

“So my daughter is killed and you decide, well bully for me, I can go out and pick up the first man I see now?”

“No, of course not,” Harry exclaimed. “I wouldn’t be standing here with Evan now if that were the case. I just wanted dinner. And then I wanted to know more about him. It just happened.”

Arthur stopped Molly’s next comment with a squeeze of her arm. “Nothing to be done about it now, Molly. Their magic decided they were compatible and bound them. It happens. It’s nothing Harry could have controlled, and though I, too, question the haste, I do see that Harry didn’t deliberately set out to spit on our daughter’s memory.”

“I wouldn’t,” Harry said softly. “I loved her.” Evan moved to put an arm around Harry’s waist, urging him to lean, which he did, gratefully, into Evan’s side.

George, who had been silent up until this point, leaned forward, taking in the body language of the couple in front of the fireplace, seeing silent support. “How long have the pair of you known each other, then? And why haven’t we heard of you before?”

Evan and Harry looked at each other, then Harry gave a slight nod, ceding the floor to Evan. “I’ve known about Harry for years, obviously, like everybody else. But I knew his mother well, and I heard a great deal about Harry from my brother. Severus spent most of his time while Harry was at Hogwarts protecting him, first for his mother’s sake, then for his own. He and I ran a business together out of a cottage in Wales, in my name, providing potions to elite clients, and Severus talked about him constantly. I stayed out of the war altogether. When Severus died, I took over looking out for Harry, as Severus would have wanted, though that was not a big task since the war was over. I introduced myself formally at Ginny’s funeral.”

“I knew from Snape’s memories who he was,” Harry said.

The room was silenced as its occupants took in the information.

Arthur was the first to breach it. “What about Jamie? Evan, how will you treat my grandson?”

Evan smiled broadly, uninhibited. “I love him. He and I get on quite well, and with Harry’s guidance, I will do my best to be a loving parent to him. I can’t replace his mother, obviously. No one could do that. But I will treat him like my own.”

“He already does,” Harry added quietly. “Jamie looks for him when he’s not around.”

“Really?” Evan asked, pleased.

“Yes,” Harry said. “Especially when we’re playing and you’re not home yet. He keeps watch for you, and giggles at the first sound of your voice.”

“Where is my nephew?” Ron asked. “You normally have play time on Sunday mornings.”

“Yes, well, I was afraid the environment here would get heated, and I don’t want him exposed to family tension if I can help it,” Harry said calmly, judging the climate of the room. “Rissa took him upstairs to play, but I’ve no doubt he’d rather have one of us.”

Molly had pressed her face into Arthur’s neck, suppressing her anger and grief. George still regarded the couple thoughtfully, and Ron looked calm, though he’d probably get more questions in later. Hermione looked lost in thought, rather like Harry had presented her with a puzzle. Harry would bet money that she’d be in the library by nightfall, researching bonds. Arthur, too, was fighting his grief, but Harry also read acceptance in the older man’s face.

“Shall I have her bring him down?” Harry asked, knowing his son’s sunny demeanor would likely help raise the spirits of his grandparents, at any rate.

“Please,” Arthur requested.

“Rissa?”

Rissa popped in with Jamie in her arms. The baby was gnawing on a stuffed dragon.

“Sir?”

“We’ll take Jamie now,” Harry said, and held his hands out to his son, who easily slipped into his father’s embrace. “Thank you, Rissa. And no more visitors today, please. If any are persistent, tell them a statement will be made to the press tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Rissa said, then popped off.

“I’m going to have to speak with Robert, too,” Harry muttered to himself, referring to his steward. “There are details to deal with.”

“Together, Harry,” Evan reminded him softly.

“Right,” Harry smiled gratefully, looking into Evan’s eyes.

“Gah!” Jamie yelled, demanding attention.

“Well said, young man,” Evan answered him, then took Jamie from his father and bounced him for a moment on his higher shoulder. “Make yourself heard.”

Jamie giggled and grabbed for Evan’s hair as Evan tipped him over to Arthur. “None of that, me-lad, or I’ll have no hair left. Here you are, then, Mr. Weasley.”

Arthur took Jamie into his lap, and Molly looked up from her perch buried in Arthur’s shoulder to smile gently at her grandson. “There’s a good lad,” she crooned, and the pair of Weasley grandparents held the living proof of their daughter’s existence.


	23. To Become a Prince?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Evan discovers something distressing. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to try for a couple of chapters this week. I'm heading into finals, so it's a little hectic around here. Sorry about the wait.

Chapter 23: To Become a Prince?

Even with standard mail protocols in place, Harry faced a pile of correspondence when he looked into his office.

It was Sunday evening; having spent most of the day in the company of his in-laws, who were stiffly getting to know Evan, Harry felt disinclined to address the letters in front of him. It was stressful, staying positive and maintaining cordiality. More than once, he had a wild urge to just shove everyone but Jamie and Evan into the floo and on their way.

But he’d held on.

His being cordial and patient helped Molly and Arthur enormously, he knew. It also tended to settle Ron down before he got belligerent.

Then again, Ron had had an inkling or two that all was not as it should be in Potter House for some time.

Harry had never come out to Ron, before today, but they’d been best friends since Harry was 11, and in some ways, Harry knew that Ron knew him better than most.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised,” Ron murmured to Harry at one point during the day, having pulled him into a corner of the parlour while everyone else was occupied. “You never were that interested in talking about girls, even when they were pursuing you. I thought you’d just found Ginny and that was it. But looking back, Har, I can see that you’ve been struggling with this for a long time.”

Harry was silent. What could he say?

Ron smiled ruefully. “All I want is for you to be happy. I know that’s all Ginny wanted, too. If this is it, I support you. And this Evan bloke better treat you right, that’s all I’m saying.”

Harry accepted Ron’s support gratefully, even as he wondered, internally, when Ron had matured so completely.

Still, as Harry faced the pile of letters on his desk, he heaved a sigh. Why on earth, he thought, does everyone think they deserve to know everything about my private life?

“Need help?” Evan’s voice, low and seductive and right in his ear, sent a shudder through Harry’s body.

“Please,” Harry whispered, turning around to wrap his arms around Evan and lifting his face. Evan responded to the unspoken invitation, kissing him lightly. “Burn that stack, would you?”

Evan chuckled, kissed him again, and pulled back a bit. “Didn’t you lay out mailing protocols? If they were followed, and I’m understanding your own procedures correctly, that stack of correspondence is personal and important. If I burn it, you’ll regret it later.”

“Not if we give everything up, turn Muggle, and move to Tahiti.”

The chuckle became an outright laugh. “Fancy sand in your bits, then?”

“Why not?”

Evan vibrated with suppressed chuckles and pressed his forehead to Harry’s, stifling some of his laughter at his lover’s expense. “Ah, my Lord Potter, your work here is not yet done. I will help you with it, though, if I can.”

“Jamie?”

“As you tucked him in yourself not ten minutes ago, you know he’s down for the count and of no use as an excuse to keep you away from this task.”

Harry buried his head in Evan’s shoulder. “Not gonna let me shirk this, are you?” he grumbled.

“You know me, love. When have I ever let you shirk?” Nonetheless, Evan tightened his arms around Harry, squeezing him gently. “Best get it over with.”

“Just you wait,” Harry said, lifting his head from Evan’s shoulder and squeezing back, “if what Lucius found out is true, you could be dealing with this kind of correspondence yourself. And I will laugh. Hard.”

Evan shuddered with horror. “I would rather drink bobotuber pus.”

“Ew.”

“Indeed.”

But Harry took his point, and they settled into his office, Harry behind his desk. Evan sat in the chair in front of the desk, and reached for the first letter in the stack.

“Ah,” Evan said. “Congratulations, thinly veiled behind contempt for the speed of bonding. From a fellow Wizengamot member.”

“Thank you note, then,” Harry said, pulling a stack from the bottom desk drawer. He wrote a short thank you for the kind wishes of the writer, signed it, and duplicated it once. “Here. A template. Just tap your wand to it, with “Duplio,” and you’ll get another signed thank you.”

“Excellent,” Evan said, doing just that, then hand-addressing the corresponding envelope and setting the finished note to the side.

They worked in tandem for several minutes, addressing thank you notes, until Harry picked up a letter bearing the Gringotts seal.

“Well, this ought to be interesting,” he muttered, opening it up. He read quietly for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Evan, this pertains to you.”

“Yes?”

“Dear Lord Potter,

“It has come to our attention that you have magically bonded to Evan Emrys Prince, last Heir to the Prince line. As is standard for such magical bondings, Gringotts provides you with one week from the time of your bonding to submit a marriage contract delineating the terms of your bonding before invoking Heir magicks. Should no contract be submitted and sealed during that time, your holdings and those of the Prince line will combine under your title, as it is the elder title of the two of you.

“Heir Prince also will receive this notification.

“We at Gringotts congratulate you on your bonding.

“Sincerely,

“Ragnok, Director.”

Harry lowered the letter. “Etcetera, etcetera. Looks like we need to get Lucius back here.”

“Yes,” Evan said quietly. “I had no idea I’d be eligible to receive the Prince holdings.”

“No dark mark,” Harry pondered. “Why were you never informed of your eligibility before this?”

Evan sank back into his chair and covered his eyes. “I’d bet money that my mother kept the possibility from my father.” He rubbed at the space between his eyebrows. “She knew how he felt about nobility. Gods! What did she see in him!!?” He sprang up and started pacing. “That bastard Snape, who beat me and abused me and made me wish I were dead, just for being myself. The asshole drunk who couldn’t be bothered to be a real father. And now I find out I could have had something all along that was mine alone?”

Harry watched him quietly, letting him rant. Evan stopped by the fireplace, stretching his hands out to the mantlepiece and lowering his head between them. “I would never have taken the dark mark had I known. I could have been safe from Voldemort.” His voice cracked. “I could have been safe from Lestrange.”

Now, Harry moved, talking as he came up behind Evan, so that Evan knew he was there. He didn’t want to risk sudden movement just now. “Love, I’m sorry so much was kept from you. That you didn’t have the information you needed to make better decisions at the time.” Harry gently placed a hand on the small of Evan’s back and began to rub, gently. “You made the best decisions you could with the information you did have. And really, given how you were raised, how were you to know you could be heir to an Ancient and Noble House?”

“Dumbledore probably knew,” Evan whispered. “He was head of the Wizengamot for years. He would have known about the possibility. And he said nothing to me.” Bitter, black feelings rolled through him.

“We don’t know that, not for certain,” Harry said softly, continuing to rub Evan’s back. “The head of the Wizengamot can’t be expected to know all the potential heirs for every one of the seats. I certainly doubt the current head does.” Though Harry was almost dead certain that the news would not be news to late Headmaster, the timing of Dumbledore’s knowledge would be crucial to understanding just how deep Evan’s sense of betrayal could run. “If he did know, the question becomes, ‘When’ did he know? Before or after you took the dark mark? And what did it benefit him to tell you? Remember, this is the man who decided not to distract me with the fact that I was the de facto Lord Potter.”

“Distractions,” Evan murmurred. “He wouldn’t have taken notice of me before I took the dark mark, before the heirship became an issue with the death of my grandfather. He wouldn’t want a marked man--or another one, rather--on the Wizengamot. And when he found out what side I was truly on? It wouldn’t do to--distract--me from my appointed task as a spy for him.”

“Dumbledore waited and watched,” Harry said, continuing to soothe. “Someone should have told you. The fact that none did meant that it was better for them that you not know. Not necessarily better for you, but better for them.”

Evan straightened up, turned around, and looked at his bonded. “What do I do now?”

Harry took Evan’s hands in his own. “Sleep. We’ll sleep on this. But what you need to think about now is whether you want to accept the Prince Lordship. Things will change for you if you do. I support your decision, whatever it will be, because I love you and I want this to be a marriage of equals.” He squeezed Evan’s hands gently. “I wish you had more time to decide. But what you want, we’ll write into the contract. I can take over the Prince lordship for you if you’d like. If you want, nothing has to change but that you have more money and property, and the luxury to work on potions research.” Harry took a deep breath. “I know better than anyone how this kind of news can derail all personal plans, and I will help you through it.”

Evan pressed his forehead to Harry’s. “Sleep, then. I don’t think I can handle much more today.”

“As far as I know, that’s the only time-sensitive correspondence that we needed to address,” Harry glanced over at the mail in his inbox, a substantially smaller stack than when they’d started. He waved his right hand at the remaining letters, which glowed blue briefly, then settled. “A charm to see if anything needs my immediate attention. It would have glowed red. So that’s us settled for the night then.” Harry lifted his left hand, still holding Evan’s, and kissed the knuckles. “Let’s go up and settle you down.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some Snarry smut occurs, and things are settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts with a bit of lemon that sort of just happened. Honestly. But it goes with the theme, so, enjoy, I guess? Not particularly sure I'm all that good at writing smut, but there you go.

**Chapter 24: Settling**

 

Harry pressed a kiss to the middle of Evan’s palm, then traced his lips upward, following the line of his wrist, to lay a kiss on the pulsepoint there before withdrawing. “I love you,” he said softly, dragging his thumb across the place he’d just kissed.

Evan exhaled sharply, then bent forward to kiss the outer shell of Harry’s ear, raising his own hands to settle at Harry’s hips. “I love you, too,” he said, his silky voice causing the tell-tale shiver through Harry’s body that indicated clear arousal.

The house was quiet. The visitors gone. Jamie sleeping. The pair had gone to their suite, and Harry had begun the business of “settling” Evan down from the stressors of the day.

Really, Harry thought absently, he was settling them both down.

Harry raised his hands again, carding through Evan’s lush hair, before tracing the delicate line of Evan’s neck, ending with his top button. Slowly, he pressed the button through its hole, detaching them. He moved to the next, using the same deliberate motions, and Evan let him, standing still and quiet as Harry unbuttoned him, then pressed the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Evan closed his eyes as Harry’s lips brushed one pebbled nipple and his hands reached for Evan’s belt, unfastening it and letting it take Evan’s trousers to the floor with a soft push.

Harry ran his hands over the silk boxers Evan wore, gently grasping his bum and pulling him closer, slotting their hips together, and leaning up to catch Evan’s lips. He explored Evan’s mouth, silky tongues stroking each other, as he slipped his hands under the silk of Evan’s boxers to cup firm, naked flesh.

They kissed long minutes before Harry pulled back, shimmying Evan’s pants off as he did so, and nudging him toward the bed.

“How about a massage?” Harry asked softly. “Let me rub you down, love.”

A mumbled groan of assent was Harry’s only answer as he helped Evan down onto soft cotton sheets, rolling him face down. Quickly, Harry divested himself of his own clothing--he could always claim it was to avoid oil stains, but honestly, he just wanted to be naked and oiled with Evan--and reached for a drawer in his bedside table to pull out a bottle of rosemary scented massage oil.

“You’ll smell wonderful when I’m done,” he whispered into Evan’s ear, earning himself a shiver. Harry pooled some of the oil on the small of Evan’s back and began to work the long muscles there, stroking up to Evan’s neck and shoulders, then down, over his firm buttocks and the backs of his thighs. He hummed soothingly as he worked, sussing out tense muscles and relaxing them with firm pressure.

For his part, Evan reveled in the feeling of Harry’s hands soothing his naked skin, the warm oil making his work soft and slippery. He felt the brush of Harry’s fingers, the pressure of an elbow, and as Harry worked his way back up, he felt the unmistakable brush of an erect cock over his flesh. He could tell it wasn’t intentional; Harry was trying to soothe, not excite (though Evan could confirm that Harry’s hands on his body automatically meant a bit of excitement). The thought of what that cock might do, however, wound its way into Evan’s brain, and his own need rose.

“Harry,” he asked softly.

“Hmmm?”

“Let me turn over.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “OK, then.” Harry backed away as Evan turned over and lay flat again. “Should I go on?”

“Please.”

Harry looked into deep gray eyes that looked drugged with longing and lust as Harry’s hands continued their work. Harry straddled Evan’s stomach, carefully keeping his bum from touching Evan’s now-very-erect cock, while he massaged the planes of Evan’s chest and the junction of Evan’s neck and shoulders.

“You could try that a little lower,” Evan suggested silkily.

Harry chuckled, but obligingly shifted his weight and moved so he straddled Evan’s thighs, smoothing his hands over his taut stomach to press his thumbs into the curve of his left hip. “Here?”

“Little to the right--I mean,  left. Your left.”

Grinning wickedly, Harry shifted and rubbed the curve of the right hip. “Here?”

“Too far. Perhaps half-way back?”

“Oh! You mean, here.” Harry smoothly and gently rubbed Evan’s lower belly, just under the slight curve of his hardened cock, which pressed toward his belly button. He barely touched it as his hands worked underneath it, and Evan gave a loud hiss.

“Just touch my cock already!”

Harry chuckled again, low, then refreshed the oil in his palms and finally, finally, laid hands on Evan’s cock. Slowly, he grasped it, firmly stroking it from base to tip, in one direction, as if milking him. “Like this?”

“Merlin, yes.”

Harry stroked him until he was gasping, hanging on the edge of orgasm, before drawing back. “So, thighs next?”

Evan lunged up, flipped Harry over onto his back, muttered two words--stretching and lubrication charms--and pressed inside his bonded. They groaned in unison, and, knowing he was already close, Evan reached between them to strip Harry’s cock as he thrust inside. A bare half-dozen strokes had him coming, hard, but he kept his hand moving on Harry until he, too, came.

Evan collapsed in a heap on top of Harry, trying to catch his breath, as Harry panted under him.

“Well,” Harry managed to gasp out. “I hope this helped.”

Evan started laughing, low and rough, the sound reverberating through Harry’s body. “Oh, I should think so. Although, perhaps, we should repeat the experiment. Multiple times. Just to ensure its efficacy.”

“That’s my forward-thinking Potions Master. Scientific method meets shagging. Love it.”

xxx

Monday morning brought a fresh round of correspondence and a repeat visitor. Lucius arrived just after breakfast, as Harry settled Jamie into the warded corner of his office and Evan started on more thank you notes.

“Well, it’s confirmed,” Lucius said after preliminary greetings were exchanged. “You are the Prince heir, and eligible to take the Prince Lordship, should you choose to do so. Have you given any thought to how you want to proceed.”

Harry nodded to Evan. “It’s your choice. As we’ve discussed, Evan, everything you owned before you bonded with me should be yours now, which we’ll settle with the contract we’re drawing up today.”

Evan leaned back from the desk. “What’s the average workload, Harry?”

Harry walked back to his desk and sat on a corner. “This week, we have sessions twice to debate the current creature rights legislation and settle it into something we can all vote to approve. It’s contentious, but we’re getting things done. I hold office hours on those same days, just before the session, for private chats and discussions with other members. Here, I spend an hour or two each morning catching up with correspondence and overseeing my estates, meeting with my steward, Robert, and ensuring things are running smoothly. I meet with my Gringotts financial advisor about once a month, though I assume I’ll be meeting with him more frequently in the next few weeks as we decide what to do with your estates. There are other things I do, such as maintaining memberships on the boards of a few charities I support, and Hogwarts governor meetings, but those are quarterly affairs.”

Lucius interjected. “No one has taken the Prince estates in hand since the death of your grandfather, so there’s likely to be some substantial work that needs doing in the short term. You’ll need a comprehensive list of the holdings, which you’ll get after you file the paperwork with the Ministry formally requesting the heirship. I have that drawn up; it just needs your signature and a drop of blood to execute.”

“Gringotts sent us notice that we have until Friday to set the terms of our bonding,” Harry noted, for Lucius’ sake. “The bank acknowledged Evan as the Prince heir.”

“Excellent. There’s no need for additional work on their end, then,” Lucius took out a small notebook and a pen--not, Harry was amused to see, a quill--and made a note to himself. “I also have a press release here for you two to look at. I know you probably told the Weasley’s something about your background yesterday, Evan, so I want to make sure what I’ve written coincides with that story, so there’s no room for questions.”

“Yes, thank you, Lucius.” Evan took the parchment Lucius withdrew from a fold of his robe and looked it over. “Illegitimate son of Eileen Prince Snape, homeschooled and neutral in the war, Potions Master, quietly in business with his brother, Severus Snape, since 1979. Yes. This is acceptable. It’s my story under this name, and only the details about my parentage are left out, which is also acceptable, per etiquette.”

“May I know who your new magical parent is, Evan? There may be additional repercussions, depending upon the source of your third bloodline,” Lucius asked.

Harry and Evan exchanged a brief look. “We thought of that, Lucius,” Harry said. “Evan will hold no competing claim with another house, as that line of succession is firmly entrenched, legally and magically.”

“For her sake, my new mother wishes to remain anonymous at this time,” Evan added quietly.

“Fair enough,” Lucius agreed, though he was dying of curiosity. “Any thoughts on your own situation, then?”

“The magical contract should at the least, state that all properties and businesses, chattels, etcetera, belonging to Evan Emrys Prince remain in his possession with our bonding,” Harry said firmly. “We’ve not had much of a chance to talk about the Prince estates.”

Evan slowly added, “However, my love, I have no interest in taking a seat on the Wizengamot.” He heaved a deep breath. “It’s simply not my cup of tea. I’ve had more than enough of politics and diplomacy, hiding and fighting, than I ever want to engage in again.”

Harry regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “Lucius, what would happen to the Prince Lordship when I die, if I take it under the Potter mantle?”

“It will pass to your heirs. If you have only one heir, he will take both Lordships. If you have two heirs, you may specify in your will which heir will receive which Lordship.” Lucius hesitated. “If you have a child together, Evan would have a blood heir who could take that line, should you specify that in your will. However, that’s up to you. Once you assume the Prince Lordship, its future rests in your hands.”

“What means exist for a couple such as us to have a child together?” Harry asked.

“Blood adoption, as was done with me, Harry,” Evan said. “Either you or I could impregnate a willing surrogate. After the child is born, the third parent could hold the blood adoption ritual, and we’d have a child together.”

“For that matter,” Lucius added, “the two of you could blood-adopt an orphan or other child whose parents preferred to give it up.”

“The child’s birth parents retain no claim to a blood-adopted child, and the child picks up secondary physical characteristics from its adoptive parents, as you see,” Evan gestured to his eyes and hair. “It’s a fairly common procedure in the wizarding world, where the need for heirs is great.”

“Once in a while, we find someone researching the possibility of males conceiving with other males,” Lucius mused. “As far as I know, that hasn’t yet been accomplished. The male body simply isn’t built to accommodate a pregnancy. However, that research has yielded ways of impregnating women without requiring intercourse between the parties. That might be useful to you.”

“Interesting,” Harry said, “and something Evan and I will need to discuss privately. I’d love more children. But for now, if you agree, Evan, Jamie will be named as heir to both the Potter and Prince Lordships.”

“I think that would be wise, in the short term,” Evan agreed.

“What about the Prince properties?” Harry asked him. “Do you want to manage those estates?”

“Not especially,” Evan said, after a pause. “I’m glad they’re there, and I’d certainly like to know what they are, but I have no interest in managing them.”

“Right, then,” Lucius said, continuing his note-taking. “Harry will assume the Prince seat and manage the Prince estates, but Evan will retain his ownership and management of his earned properties and businesses.”

“In the event I die before Evan does, the seat, title and estates should revert to Evan,” Harry said firmly. “Jamie can take the Potter seat. If Evan and I both die, without having another child, Jamie will take both seats. With an option to revisit this clause at any time.”

“That sounds agreeable,” Evan said, nodding. “I will set up my own will to indicate Jamie as my heir at this time.”

“Gah!” Jamie yelled from his corner, where he’d managed to stack his quilt blocks, and wanted the men’s attention.

“Well, I know it’s a burden for an infant, but you’ll just have to manage,” Evan said solemnly, as he got up and joined him in the corner, sitting comfortably behind Jamie and letting the lad lean back on him and giggle. “There’s a good lad.”

Harry smiled at the picture the two of them made. “So, can you draw that up, Lucius?”

“I can, and I will have it ready for you to review tomorrow morning, if that’s agreeable. Evan will need to sign the heirship paperwork first, then the bonding contract. Then that will be done and dusted,” Lucius said, putting his notebook away and withdrawing the heirship papers from somewhere on his person.

Harry accepted them, then looked over at Evan. “Ready to sign now?”

Evan gestured him over, then took the offered quill and signed in the indicated spot. He pricked a finger with a muttered spell, added the drop of blood, and with a flash, the paperwork disappeared to the Ministry, presumably to be filed by Brest, who had just fired Millicent Bulstrode.

“Done,” Evan said, then started tickling Jamie’s feet.


	25. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author wonders WTF just happened to her fluffy story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. "Professor" is not just my secret identity, and it's finals week. Last week was turning-in-final-projects week. Why, oh why, do I assign so much homework?

**Chapter 25: Next Steps**

 

Evan just waved Harry off when he tried to take Jamie for his morning nap.

“No, I’ve got him.” Evan tucked a sleepy Jamie into his shoulder and stood. “You and Lucius probably have business to discuss.”

“We do, but...are you sure?” Harry asked.

Evan smiled in his direction. “He’s mine, now, too, right? Best get used to caring for him that way.”

Harry smiled back. “Thank you.” He stepped forward and nuzzled Jamie’s neck, earning himself a drowsy giggle. “I love you, Jamie-me-lad.” He then turned to Evan’s neck. “I love you, Evan-me-love.”

“I love you, too,” Evan replied, eyes soft at the new endearment. “I’ll be back down when Jamie’s asleep. I do have potions to check in the cottage, but I’ll floo through from here.”

“Sounds good.” Harry stepped back and let Evan and Jamie go, then turned toward Lucius. “Next steps?”

“You’ll need to file for the Prince lordship once the bonding contract is accepted, and register your seat formally with the Wizengamot,” Lucius said briskly, filing the couple’s interactions away for later thought.

“Paperwork. And more paperwork.”

“But once it’s done, you’ll be set for some time,” Lucius pointed out, ignoring Harry’s general disgruntlement with the sheer amount of parchment that he’d need to work through in the next week.

“True.” Harry seated himself behind his desk, straightened, and steepled his fingers. “I appreciate your help, Lucius.”

“I’m glad to give it.” Lucius hesitated, then firming his resolve, said, “I’m glad to see my old friend alive and happy. I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.”

“How very Hufflepuff of you,” Harry commented drily.

Lucius gave a very undignified roll of his own silver eyes. “Don’t spread that around.”

“I would never.” Harry smirked.

Lucius sobered. “Still, I never thought he would be happy. I had no idea he was a spy until the war was over, and looking back on those dark times …” Lucius paused, silently reflecting on the horror that was his time as a Death-eater. “I’m frankly amazed he’s still sane. Able to express love, much less feel it.”

Harry sobered, too. “I was there for the second war, Lucius. I saw him in school; I saw him through Voldemort’s eyes. I have an idea how bad it was. I’m grateful he was able to find some peace after the war ended.”

“After you released us all from the terror that was the Dark Lord,” Lucius reminded him firmly.

Harry shrugged. He didn’t like to dwell on his death in the woods, or his role in the ending of Voldemort’s reign of terror. It had happened. It was over. No need to fuss. Mischief managed.

Lucius, on the other hand, preferred to remind Harry--and himself--how much he was owed by the wizarding world. He knew very well that Harry had Slytherin tendencies, but Lucius was a bit stumped by Harry’s refusal to truly capitalize on his status. In this case, however, a bit of capitalizing was called for.

“It will make the public news of your bonding a bit easier to bear if the public is reminded of how much goodwill it owes you,” Lucius said, pulling another parchment out of somewhere--Harry really did wonder where he stowed all of these things--and handing it over. “The press release.”

Harry read:

 

_Contact: Lord Lucius Malfoy, via OWL, with Questions_

 

_Lord Harry Potter-Black announces his magical bonding to Evan Emrys Prince, Heir-Apparent to the House of Prince._

_While unexpected to both men, the magical bonding was not unwelcome. Prince formally met Potter-Black shortly after the death of his first wife, Lady Ginevra Potter, and the pair were surprised when magic bonded them almost immediately. Recent advancements in their relationship led to a full bonding, witnessed by magic. A formal bonding before family and friends is planned for the end of July._

_Potter-Black and his late wife married immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts, during which Potter-Black died to save the Wizarding world from the terror of the Dark Lord Voldemort. His return to life and subsequent defeat of Voldemort created a life debt owed to Potter-Black by the wizarding public. Potter-Black chose to spend his life in service to that same public by taking up his lordship mantles and serving on the Wizengamot._

_Prince recently was recognized as the heir to the House of Prince, and with the bonding, Prince has chosen to allow Potter-Black to take over the house seat. Prince is a Potions Master of long standing who remained neutral in the recent war._

_The couple asks that their privacy be respected and that no gifts be sent to mark the occasion. Any who feel compelled to recognize their union should send donations--needed material goods or cash--to the Potter Foundation for distribution to those in need._

 

Harry put the paper down. “Subtle.”

“That was the intent. Remind them of who you are and what they owe you. Offer a bit of insight. I guessed that Sev--Evan would not want the Prince seat, and I assumed the two of you would prefer that the public not give you gifts directly.”

“Cagey Slytherin,” Harry commented. “And you’re right about gifts. Never thought about that.”

“They’ll all want to do something,” Lucius answered. “Narcissa even asked before I left if I thought you’d want a gift.”

“I’m sure donations for the needy works for me. We already have all we need, but let me ask Evan--”

“Ask Evan what?” Evan stepped into the room, dressed in potions robes, ready to step through the floo.

“Donations to the Potter Foundation for distribution to those in need in lieu of bonding gifts?” Harry asked.

Evan paused for thought, then shrugged. “We have all we could ever need, certainly. That works for me.” He strode over to Harry, kissed him lightly on the lips. “Let me know if you need me for other decisions. I’m off to the cottage.”

“Have a good day,” Harry wished him, as Evan stepped into the fireplace and shouted for his old home. He got a grin in return as the flames flared green, and Evan was gone.

xxx

The first thing Evan heard when he returned that evening was Jamie’s angry screams and Molly’s shouting.

“What is going on here?” Evan thundered the words out in his best there-will-be-quiet-in-this-classroom voice, and the room hushed. Even Jamie stopped screaming, his tears coming in quiet hiccups from his perch in his father’s arms.

Harry looked livid.

Evan stepped forward and held his hands out, and Jamie practically leapt forward with a “Gah!” to be caught up in Evan’s arms, where he snuggled in and cried softly.

“It’s all right, Jamie-me-lad,” Evan crooned, one hand rubbing his step-son’s back. “We’ll be all right.”

“Give me my grandson,” Molly barked. “I’m taking him with me.”

“No, you are not,” Harry said coldly. “You have no rights to him other than what I give you. And you have crossed the line today. My hearth is closed to you.” A boom accompanied the words. “My home is closed to you.” Another boom. “Begone.” A wind whipped around Molly’s form, and she disappeared with a crack.

Evan continued to soothe Jamie with a light rub, and his cries had died to whimpers in the comfort of his embrace. “What happened, Harry?”

Harry collapsed on the office couch. “I actually caught her giving him a potion. I’m not sure what it was, exactly, but he started screaming as I came into the room. She was starting to drip it onto his tongue.” He shuddered. “I stopped her, and picked him up, and she started screaming about how he only belonged to Ginny, and how Jamie should be with her and not me, and then you arrived to break it up. Thank you.”

Evan pulled Jamie’s little face out of his neck. “Sorry, me lad, but I need to look at your mouth,” he murmured, gently forcing it open and looking around. “I see nothing out of place, but we should get a Healer to look at him. Do you have the potion?”

“There,” Harry gestured to his desk, where a vial with a dropper rested on its side, tossed there in haste.

Evan picked it up, checked its color and clarity, opened the vial and smelled it. “Aversion Potion.”

“What is that?”

“A particularly nasty concoction, which when imbued with a person’s hair, blood or saliva, creates an aversion to that person.”

“Is there a way to tell whom?”

“Yes.” Evan tucked Jamie back into his shoulder and tapped the vial with the wand in his other hand. “ _Revelio Personum_.”

A ghostly shadow with messy hair and round glasses rose over the vial.

The walls started to rattle as Harry spit out, “She wanted my son to have an aversion to me? To me?”

“Harry, calm yourself. We don’t know how much she gave him, but when I left you this morning, he was clearly fine with you. It’s not a one-time use thing; it has to build up in someone’s system to cause a true aversion. Hence, we need a healer to determine how long she’s been trying to do this,” Evan said quietly.

Harry drew in deep, heaving breaths, trying to control his magic and keep from scaring Jamie any further. “She’s gone too far, Evan. Too far.”

“I know, love, I truly do. But let’s take care of Jamie first, right? We’re lucky I’m a Potions Master; we’re lucky you caught her. Who is Jamie’s Healer?”

“Draco,” Harry gasped out.

Evan nodded and reached for the floo. “Malfoy Manor.”


	26. Aversions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day to make up for a lack of posts last week. Enjoy.

**Chapter 26: Aversions**

 

Draco Malfoy, licensed Healer and personal family physician to the Potter family, ran his wand down the center of Jamie’s torso, reading the numbers that appeared in lights above Jamie’s face as he did so. Somewhat calmer, Jamie tried to reach for the lights as they appeared, then flickered out with a quick sweep of Draco’s wand. Jamie’s fussiness with the disappearance of the lights made Draco grin a little, and he flicked his wand again to produce moving stars above his young patient’s face.

“There you are, Jamie,” Draco soothed. “Have a bit of fun while I speak to your father.”

“Will he be fine, Draco?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Yes.” Draco checked one more reading, then looked Harry in the eye. “But you’re very lucky that Evan is a Potions Master who could readily identify the potion she tried to use. We don’t normally check for aversion potions--they’re not only rare, they’re banned.”

“So how did Molly get her hands on one?”

“Home-brewed, I believe.” Draco clenched his jaw. “Is Mrs. Weasley a proficient brewer?”

Evan cleared his throat. “I believe she’d have to be. She’s attended to her own family’s needs for years, after all.”

Draco nodded. That made sense. “There’s no counter, but the levels in his system are extremely low. If I had to guess, I’d say this aversion therapy only started in the last week or so. Long enough to register, but not long enough to do any real damage. He doesn’t seem to mind you at all, so I’d say she was going for a long-term effect.”

“Weeks, Evan.” Harry had to clench his fists. “She didn’t even know about us yet and she was already planning to make my son hate me.”

“This is extremely illegal, Harry,” Draco said quietly. “The only counter is lots of love, which I know he’ll have with you. I’ll be willing to testify if you press charges.”

Harry raised his clenched fists to his eyes and stepped away from the examining table, to which Jamie had been stuck with a light sticking charm. Evan stepped forward to unstick his step-son and pick him up, dispelling Draco’s starry mobile. “What charges could she be facing, Healer Malfoy?” Evan asked, mindful of the fact that his godson did not know of his true identity.

“Please, call me Draco. As the Potter-Black family healer, we’re likely to have a long relationship, aren’t we, Mr. Prince?” Draco held a hand out. Evan took it. “Very well, then, Draco; I’m Evan.”

“That settled,” Harry ground out, still fighting his magic and his temper, “please, can you answer his question, Draco?”

“Father would be better able to answer it, Harry, but I can tell you that aversion potions are banned because they’re recognized as a form of Imperius; that is, a forcing of someone’s mind to a specific way of thinking. Nearly unforgivable, and therefore likely to stretch to prison time.” Draco took a deep breath, and continued. “Because Jamie is the Potter Heir, it’s possible Molly could face charges relating to magical line-theft, but that would be tough to stick, as technically, his position wouldn’t have changed. Only the relationship with his father would be affected.”

“How dare she?” Harry’s head came up, and, revealed, his eyes nearly glowed an eerie Avada Kedavra green.

“Harry, as your healer, I’m going to recommend you expel some of that magical energy before you explode,” Draco said calmly. “Would you like to use the dueling chambers?”

Harry practically crackled. “I don’t think a live opponent to be a good idea.”

“Good thing we have dummies, then. Come on.”

xxx

Evan held Jamie behind an enforced shield as Harry mowed down multiple enchanted opponents in a massive display of power and energy.

“Wow,” he whispered, snuggling the now-sleeping baby. It was long past Jamie’s bedtime.

“I know, right?” Draco commented quietly. “All these years I’ve known him, I’ve known he has power, capital P. His magical core is off the scale. I honestly don’t know how he ratchets it all down.” Draco nodded toward Jamie. “This little one, too. Immensely powerful. I’d expect accidental magic any time.”

Evan looked down at Jamie’s sweet face. “That will be an adventure, I’m sure,” he whispered softly.

“You look content, Evan,” Draco commented. “It’s good to see.”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

Draco waved the look away. “Never mind. Just, I’m not stupid. And I know your magical signature pretty well. No worries. You look good. And I’m not about to say anything.” A quick sheen of tears in silver eyes was viciously blinked back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Dragon,” Evan murmured quietly. “Thank you for keeping this quiet.”

“Healer confidentiality,” Draco replied. “I’m locked up tight in magical oaths to the Potter-Black family. No way I could say anything even if I wanted to. One of the reasons Harry first contacted me when I got licensed. That, and he trusted me. Weirdly.”

Evan snorted. “Not so weird. War does strange things to people.”

“That it does.”

“So, Healer Malfoy, eh?”

Draco nodded. “It was one of the professions open to me when the community service requirement was applied to me. I took the mark, but I proved it was under duress, so I was offered a choice of community service. I picked healing. I work mostly free clinic attached to St. Mungo’s, but I also serve as the personal physician to the Malfoy, Potter and Black families. I enjoy what I do.”

“Good for you,” Evan praised, as he watched Harry decimate another legion of ten dummies. His anger didn’t appear to be waning in the least.

“The other channel he may need to employ for his magic will be sexual, Evan,” Draco commented. “As his bonded, you should know that as a method that works.”

“I do, though I hadn’t thought of it in this context.” Evan looked at his bonded consideringly. “I’ll let him get the worst of it out here, if possible.” He watched Harry strike the last dummy down, hard, then take a deep, heaving breath. “There. That’s taken the edge off a bit.”

“He does look calmer,” Draco agreed. He cast a silencing bubble over Jamie, then called, “All right, there, Potter?”

“Better,” Harry gasped out.

“Good. Your bonded will help you channel the rest. Meanwhile, Father’s in the study if you want his advice as to whether you should call the aurors.”

Harry nodded, still catching his breath, as he followed them out.

xxx

_Molly Weasley jailed for use of banned potion_

_Molly Ginevra Weasley, 53, Monday was arrested and jailed for the use of an Aversion Potion on an infant._

_Aversion Potions are banned as a form of liquid imperius. According to the arrest warrants, Weasley used the potion to attempt to create an aversion in an infant toward that infant’s parent, for reasons as yet unknown._

_The child’s name is being withheld from the public for privacy reasons._

_Weasley is in Ministry holding while arrangements are being made for a psychological evaluation._

_“It’s possible that Mrs. Weasley is not quite herself,” a spokesperson for the Ministry told the Prophet. “Before trial and judgment are determined, we’d like to know to what extent that might be true.”_

_A hearing on the matter will be held Wednesday._


	27. Worried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys worry about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and reviews. They help keep me motivated.

**Chapter 27: What to do, what to do.**

 

It took no time at all for Evan to baby proof a corner of his cottage study, ward it, and set it up for a young visitor on Wizengamot days.

He’d simply schedule more toxic and delicate potions around the times that he had the care of Jamie.

Truth be told, they could probably leave Jamie in Rissa’s capable hands, but neither Harry nor Evan particularly wanted their son raised by a house elf, even one as trusted and loved as Rissa.

Their son.

It still got Evan by the throat, the idea that the care of this small person fell to him as much as to his birth father. And in the first days after Molly’s arrest, in fact, Jamie preferred Evan to Harry.

It broke Harry’s heart. The whole thing had, actually. He’d loved Molly as a mother, and the depths of the betrayal she’d enacted had rocked him to his core.

Evan still wasn’t sure what Molly’s motives were, other than sheer selfishness.

The psychological assessment had pointed to deep-seated fear of loss, rooted in the loss of her brothers in the first war, her son in the second, and the most recent, devastating loss of her daughter, through a senseless accident. The world had become a very scary place to Molly, who’d killed to protect Ginny once, and apparently, her mind had tipped her into a place where she needed to have her babies--all of them--only with her, where she could protect them.

The other Weasley children, shocked at their mother’s actions, had quietly had their own children checked for Aversion Potions. Only Victoire, Bill and Fleur’s oldest, showed any sign of the potion, and that, too, was a low level.

Then again, Evan thought, Bill and Fleur hadn’t provided the same level of access to their children that Harry, in his kind-hearted way, had provided to a grief-stricken Molly.

Perhaps mental illness didn’t require explanation, Evan noted, but even with understanding motivations, the betrayal stung.

Her initial hearing left her family stunned. How had they missed the signs that Molly needed help? There had been shouts of denial--Ron, Charlie--and stoic expressions--Arthur, Bill--but the evidence provided by eyewitness testimony from Harry, potion identification by a noted Potions Master, and readings provided by a qualified Healer, was firm, and undeniable.

Bill and Fleur chose not to add to the charges already leveled against Molly with the discovery that Victoire had been similarly dosed. It was enough, they decided, that Molly already was suffering from a public humiliation, her reputation as a caring parent and grandparent in tatters, and facing prison.

Harry pressed charges, provided evidence, then closed off. Evan worried that Harry might not be able to handle the overwhelming grief that the loss of his mother-by-choice brought him.

Because the entire incident had proven to Harry that Molly did not--could not--consider him the son she always claimed him to be. The tie of blood--to her own grandchild, but not to Harry--made that clear.

To have lost his own parents, then lost those who would do their best to mentor him in their stead, one by one, well. Evan hoped Harry could deal with the loss of yet one more parental figure without losing himself.

Still, Evan worried.

xxx

“Harry-love, you’re needed in the nursery,” Evan said as he swept into Harry’s office, where the Potter-Black lord was wrapping up paperwork. The bane of his existence. Seriously.

“Is it that time already?” Harry pushed back from his desk. “I’d wanted some play time before bed.”

Evan smirked. “Fortunately for you, I factored that in. Go, love. Play awaits. Your son needs giggles that only you can provide.”

Harry stood, then went to Evan, hugging him hard. “Thank you.” He pulled back, then drew Evan into a tender kiss. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

xxx

Life moved on. After much negotiation and discussion, Molly was sentenced to six years in the dementor-free Azkaban, suspended, pending completion of a minimum three-year stay in St. Mungo’s secured ward. Successful treatment in St. Mungo’s could result in the permanent suspension of the Azkaban stay, but the important thing, all agreed, was that Molly got better.

In her right mind, Harry thought, Molly would never have done such a thing.

He’d had a month to process that horrifying moment when he realized that Molly was actively turning his son against him.

It was so far from what he’d ever expected from the loving mother figure he’d known that Harry had a difficult time with the scope of the deliberate act. How could she? Why would she? The betrayal, the anger; it had all been enormous to him.

He’d made liberal use of the Malfoy dueling chambers.

And he and Evan had made liberal use of each other.

Both helped.

What soothed the most, however, was Jamie’s constant love and need for his father’s attention. It had hurt, those first few days after Molly was caught, to notice Jamie’s preference for Evan, even though that could be explained by Jamie’s witnessing of Harry’s anger in combination with the potion. But as Evan pointed out, Jamie still needed Harry to be with him, still wanted cuddles, and as the days went by and the potion phased out of his system, Harry’s love for Jamie helped the little boy overcome any aversion that may have remained.

But a part of Harry would always wonder, he supposed, whether the potion was through with its insidious work. Evan and Draco had assured him that love was the perfect counter, and it would eventually dissipate. At a follow-up appointment two weeks after the incident, Draco had shown Harry the decreasing level, noting it to be negligible.

Still.

Harry worried.

xxx

“The pair of you are worse than broody mother hens,” Andromeda scolded, throwing her hands in the air as if to send their concerns to the gods themselves. “Harry, Jamie will be fine. Evan, Harry will be fine. The pair of you need to stop worrying so much and enjoy life.” She sat herself down on the plum-coloured family couch and crossed her legs. “I have spoken,” she said imperiously.

Evan and Harry looked at each other, and Evan’s lips quirked up. “Perhaps she’s right?”

“Perhaps,” Harry allowed.

“Da!” Jamie shouted from his corner, where he and Teddy had been playing with the charmed train.

“Did he just?” Harry asked, walking over to his son.

“Da! Da!” Jamie shouted again, lifting his arms toward his father.

“He did!” Harry scooped him up and cuddled him. “Yes, I’m Da!”

“See, love, no worries,” Evan soothed. “Even his first word is about you.” He gently threw his arms around them both. “We’re fine.”


	28. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry straightens things out with Ron and Hermione, and the Trio comes to an agreement

**Chapter 28: Facing Old Friends**

Harry clenched his fists tightly, then released them, letting the tension flow out of his arms and neck as he did so.

He really had no need to be nervous, after all, he scolded himself. It was just Ron and Hermione.

Coming to tea.

For the first time since Molly was put in St. Mungo’s for drugging his son.

Nothing to be nervous about, really.

Except while Hermione had never wavered in her friendship with Harry, Ron, unfortunately, had abandoned Harry.

Twice.

And with the new knowledge that Harry and Ginny hadn’t had the marriage he’d thought, that Harry was gay, and in fact bonded to someone Ron hardly knew? Place that with the quick arrest and trial of his mother?

Harry had cause to be concerned.

“You know you don’t have to do this by yourself, Harry-love,” Evan said quietly. The plan was for Evan to take Jamie with him to the Welsh Cottage for the afternoon so that Harry could have time with his two oldest friends alone. No doubt Ron would want to see Jamie, but Harry would not allow his son in the room with his old friend until he knew just where Ron stood with him.

(And a small part of him was very afraid that Ron might act in much the same way Molly had.)

True, since the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron had not been anything but a supportive friend. But, then again, Harry’s life had gone pretty much as Ron had envisioned it, too, with the exception of the whole noble thing. Ron had gone into Auror training alone at that revelation, and it seemed that he’d taken the opportunity to become known for himself, rather than for being associated with Harry and his myriad hyphenated titles.

They’d been busy, the three of them, in that post-Hogwarts storm of publicity, reconstruction and chaos. Hermione had taken her NEWTs early and gone straight into the Ministry to clerk in the Wizengamot offices under Tiberius Ogden, who had trained her in Wizarding law. Lucius had offered to have her clerk for him, as well, in a stroke of Slytherin-ness that still made Harry snort a bit--a Muggleborn clerking for a known Death Eater?--but she’d politely declined.

Harry stood up for them both at their wedding three years ago, and confidently expected the announcement of a pregnancy at any time, now that Hermione had her own credentials as a Wizarding solicitor.

Unless Molly’s illness and actions had thrown a spanner into her plans.

Harry shrugged. “I know, Evan, but I think it’s best if we three work things out ourselves. If we’re going to. Or if we need to.” He threw those same hands in the air. “Hell if I know. But we’ve been through so much together, I need to make sure we’re alright.”

Evan was silent for a moment. “I understand,” he said finally, remembering the three as first-years in his potions classroom, the synergy, the companionship, and yes, the tension. He flashed to their fourth year and Ron’s ridiculous abandonment of Harry during the Triwizard Tournament. Trust once lost is difficult to find again, Evan thought.

“I’ll be a Patronus away in an emergency, love,” he reaffirmed. “Jamie and I plan to make a particular potion this afternoon.”

“And what will that be?” Harry grinned a bit at the thought of Jamie on Evan’s arm, working in his lab.

“Something colorful and non-toxic, so he can see how pretty potions are to play with. I used to do that with Draco when he was small,” Evan replied, reminiscing. “I’m thinking we’ll create a tasty drink that’s infant safe.”

“He’s getting so big,” Harry said wistfully, looking over at his son playing in the corner with the quilted blocks. “I can’t believe he’s already able to drink a bit of juice, sit up on his own. Do you know, I caught him attempting to crawl the other day? He wanted a toy on the other side of the ward, but of course he couldn’t get through. I brought it to him, instead.” Harry thought for a second. “Do you suppose it’s time to expand his wards a bit? Let him move a bit more?”

“He’s pretty content in his space,” Evan said. “I don’t suppose it would hurt, just to see what he’d do. He might need incentive to move around a bit more.”

They watched him a bit more, enjoying the show Jamie was putting on with his toys, before Rissa popped into the room. “Mister and Missus Granger-Weasley are here, sir.”

“Show them to the family dining room, will you, Rissa? We’ll have tea there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Evan went over to Jamie and scooped him--and his blocks--up. Jamie giggled at him. “We’ll be back for dinner, love.”

xxx

Hermione greeted Harry with a huge hug. “It’s so good to see you, Harry,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Harry hugged her back. “It’s good to see you, too, Mione.” He pulled back and faced Ron. “You, too, Ron.”

Ron smiled a little, but his voice was strained as he said, “You look well.”

Hermione flashed her husband a look. “I had to drag him here, Harry, because he’s got it in his head that you won’t want to see a Weasley at the moment, after that business with Molly.”

Harry stepped out to the side and gestured them to sit at the table, which had been laid with a full tea service, sandwiches and cakes. “I’m always glad to see you, Ron, and I don’t blame you for what your mother did. I just wish I knew why she did it.”

Ron sat at Harry’s left and reached for sandwiches while Hermione poured out. “We’re all wondering the same thing, mate. I’m surprised she even knew what an aversion potion was, much less used one. I’ve never seen a sign that Mum had that kind of darkness in her, to want to control someone’s life to that degree.”

“That’s not quite true,” Hermione said softly. “She’s always been a bit controlling when it comes to her family, though I can certainly see why, having lost her own immediate family in the first war. I can see where her protectiveness might have taken her down that dark road.”

Ron swallowed a bit of a cheese and tomato sandwich. “She taught me better herself, so that’s why I’m just having such a hard time with this.”

Harry sipped his tea. “Did anyone check her for potions, curses, and the like?”

Ron nodded. “Nothing. I thought at first maybe she’d been imperiused for some reason, likely to cause trouble for you at the Wizengamot. Your new creatures-right legislation is not that popular among some, you know.”

“Really?” Harry asked with soft sarcasm. “I hadn’t heard.”

Hermione chose another biscuit, a chocolate confection. “It’s good work you’re doing, Harry. But Ron’s right that some aren’t happy with you.”

“They can blame the whole Wizengamot, then, because we’ve got the votes to pass it in session this week,” Harry said firmly. “And it requires more than a simple majority to overturn some of the older stuff.”

“Calm down, mate,” Ron said. “We know. Still, it had to be considered. But it looks like it was just Mum, acting on her own. Especially since Victoire had the same low levels in her system.”

“Victoire?” Harry raised an eyebrow, imitating his favorite potions master.

“Didn’t you know? Bill and Fleur had their sprogs checked, too, just in case, and Victoire showed signs of the aversion potion. Longer term use, too. But they decided not to press charges since you already were, unless it became necessary. The test results were put in her file, though,” Ron explained.

Harry sat back. He hadn’t known that. He’d been so angry, he’d merely provided all the evidence he had and let it go--though he hadn’t objected to the suspended sentence, on the off chance that Molly truly wasn’t in her right mind.

Hermione added, “I just hope that St. Mungo’s does her some good, before our own children come along. I don’t want to be in the same boat in five years, Ronald.”

“I know, dear,” Ron said tiredly, with the air of one who’d gone round and round on the subject more than once. “We won’t let her be released from St. Mungo’s if she’s not clearly better, and she still has to face Azkaban in her right mind.”

“Which will likely send her straight back to St. Mungo’s,” Harry said softly, thinking. “We really need a better system, don’t we?”

Hermione nodded. “It’s like the Wizarding world has no real way to deal with mental illness, not in the way that the Muggles do,” she said. “I checked. This kind of thing used to be a straight-to-Azkaban sentence, with dementors, and those who already were struggling would be made worse by being subjected to those creatures. It was a repetitive cycle. Now the dementors are gone, which is good, and St. Mungo’s tries to help those who are clearly mentally ill, but there’s very little research in what can be done for magical folk suffering from some sort of mental illness.”

Ron nodded. “The ward Mum’s in has magic suppression wards to prevent the patients hurting themselves or others with magic, but there’s no long-term potion therapy that could work. No one’s quite sure what to diagnose Mum with, and no one’s quite sure how to treat it. That she’s in there at all is more due to her status as a war hero.”

“Who killed Bellatrix Lestrange,” Harry remembered. “What do we know about the long term effects of using the Unforgivables?”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other. “I don’t know,” Ron admitted. “It’s not something that I’ve run across in law enforcement. Other than punishing the offenders.”

“I’ve not seen any studies on it, either,” Hermione said slowly. “It’s just, these are Unforgivable, do them and get sent to Azkaban. And that’s exactly what happened. But war excuses the use of some Unforgivables, doesn’t it? And we really don’t know the long-term effect of those curses on those who used them--just on those cursed by them.”

“Molly used an Unforgivable. I’ve used Unforgivables, though not the Avada,” Harry mused. “How many others? And I know this is circumstantial, but all the Death Eaters who regularly used those curses were really certifiable by the time they were caught.”

“If you’re right about their being a correlation, Harry, then we’re likely to see more mental illness in the wizarding public,” Hermione pointed out. “And we have no system in place to help them. In the past, we’ve just locked them up.”

Harry went silent for a moment, and Ron reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. “Oi, mate, you’re still here. So are we. And we can do something about this,” Ron said confidently.

Harry looked down at his hands, then back up at his friends. “We’re all still here.” He heaved a sigh, then picked up his tea for another sip. “And it looks like I have a commission to propose.”


	29. Mental Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys discuss the nature of magic and mental health.

Chapter 29: The Commission on the Study of Mental Health

Harry sipped his tea, thinking. Evan and Jamie were nearly finished with their little potions project, he'd been told via Patronus, but would be home in about ten minutes. Ron and Hermione had left, after a solid discussion about mental health in the wizarding world, and Harry felt much better about his relationship with Ron. Would he ever not have that niggling sense that Ron might leave him again?

He took another sip of his tea. Trust once lost, he thought, challenging to regain. But still, Ron seemed content with his friendship, upset with Molly, but also whole-heartedly on board with the plans to investigate the effects of the Unforgivables on the casters.

"It might be a chicken-and-egg thing," Ron had mused, bringing to bear the experience of his five years in the Auror Corps, including training. "You have to really be able to mean those curses, and that requires a kind of mind set that some could argue is already sick." He paused. "Except for people like my mum, who were forced into using them."

Hermione pursed her lips. "She could have chosen a different curse, with the same end results."

Harry shook his head at them both. "If there's a chance that merely casting them can affect mental health, we need to know about it."

Coming back to himself and the present, Harry mentally began drafting the proposal that would create a commission to investigate the Unforgivables. He'd want neutral parties, and experts. They'd need volunteers to undergo some testing, he assumed.

And then realized that one of the biggest potential assets in this particular area of research would be coming through the floo with his son any minute.

xxx

"Well, that's an interesting theory," Evan observed. Dinner had been eaten, Jamie had been put to bed, and the couple were lounging in their sitting room, relaxing in each other's company. "I don't think I've run into any particular research on the effects of casting those particular curses on the individual casters. But then again, believe it or not, there's not a great deal of research on mental illness in wizards to begin with."

Harry twirled the glass of Pinot Noir he held in his hand, gazing into the deep bergundy liquid. "What do we know about the effects of spellcasting on the casters?"

Evan leaned back into the sofa cushions, taking a sip from his own glass. "Well, the physical effects of casting are fairly well documented. They'd have to be, in order for healers to effectively treat those effects. Magical exhaustion, of course, from over-extending one's power in casting any spell. Sleep and Pepper-Up, recommended treatments. Some magical arts have physical effects in and of themselves, such as Legilimency and Occlumency. I believe you're more than familiar with the headaches?"

Harry fixed him with a look, then smirked. "You'd know. Though to be fair, I was also dealing with an evil Dark Lord's presence in my head."

Evan nodded in acknowledgement. "You take my point. It seems that certain kinds of physical symptoms are simply accepted as part of doing magic."

"Action has consequence. Magic use exacts a price." Harry said it quietly, but Evan heard it.

"Yes, and one can't conjure or create food without the raw materials," he added, making the connection. "Using magic does come with rules."

"So what physical effects do the Unforgivables have on the caster?" Harry asked, thinking himself.

"If one's magical power is limited, then some may not be able to cast them at all," Evan said. "They require an enormous amount of sheer raw power that not all can claim, and some, in moments of adrenaline, could pull off at the price of magical exhaustion."

"So, raw power is a prerequisite for casting," Harry nodded. "Good. Circumstantially, the two most powerful wizards I've known were both known to be, well, ... barmy? Is that a good word?"

"Counting yourself?" Evan smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "As if voluntarily dying to save the world isn't a bit nuts. I've questioned my own mental health for years."

"Justifiably, though you seem remarkably well-adjusted, overall." Evan sat back, thinking.

Harry cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm only marginally well-adjusted, and I suspect it's because I've been seeing a therapist in the mundane world since shortly after Ginny and I got married."

"Really?" Evan perked up a bit. "I hadn't noticed anything amiss in your schedule."

"I only go every month or so, now, but for a while it was twice a week. My therapist is Andromeda's brother-in-law, a Muggle who was raised with a magical brother, so he knows about our world. He's been great at helping me come to terms with everything." Harry sipped his wine again. "But I have my days, believe me."

Evan stared into the fire they'd built up in the sitting room fireplace. "I've often thought of therapy, but I've never actually gone. I found a measure of peace in my potions and my books. And the cleansing ritual was a great help. I felt lightened up, free, when it was complete." He absently drew a finger in the air, watching the flames take on the shape of a dragon at his behest, then swirl, bow, and dissipate. "You know, to really make this commission idea of yours be effective, you'll need an expert on mental illness. And those are likely to be Muggle."

"I know," Harry said softly. "I haven't a clue how to go about that, much less whether it would be allowed, given the Statute of Secrecy."

Evan snorted. "Just what we need--non-magicals finding out that there's a bunch of mentally ill magic-users running around their everyday lives."

"Yikes," Harry said briskly. "I don't even want to think about that possibility."

"Yes, well, it must be thought about, and thankfully, that's your job as a Wizengamot member. I'm a humble Potions Master, and content to be so," Evan said relievedly.

Harry flashed a grin. "Well, I'll just get a Ravenclaw to research it for me."

"There you go," Evan said obligingly. "I might have a recommendation or two, as well."

"Excellent." Harry tossed back the rest of his wine and stood. "Bed?"

Evan finished his wine, set down the glass, and stood himself, leaning in to kiss his bonded. "Bed."

xxx

Harry was dreaming.

_"You have to mean them, Potter," Bellatrix Lestrange sneered at him, then cast. "Crucio!"_

He screamed himself awake, half-remembered pain coursing through his limbs as he seized in agony.

"Harry, Harry," Evan woke, fumbling for his wand, one hand moving to stroke Harry's shoulder and pat him calm. "What's wrong?"

Harry took deep breaths, consciously trying to relax muscles that remembered the overwhelming agony of the curse. "Bad dream," he breathed out. "Bellatrix. Crucio."

Evan whitened, then turned to gently pull Harry into his arms, smoothing his naked back with his hands. "I've got you. You're safe. She's gone."

Evan repeated the words like a mantra as he gently rubbed down Harry's back and arms, using his touch to soothe muscles, his deep voice to soothe fears. As Harry's trembling slowed, Evan embraced him more tightly. "Love, you're alright. I'm here."

Harry breathed into Evan's neck, pressing himself tightly along Evan's body, skin to sweat-slicked skin. "Tighter," he breathed out. "Hold me tighter."

Evan banished boxers, the only barrier between them, then rolled Harry over and lay on top of him, pressing himself alongHarry's body and wrapping his arms fully around his shoulders, caging him. "There, love, that's better, isn't it?"

Harry gave one full body shudder at the feel of Evan's deep-timbred voice vibrating at his ear. "Yes," he breathed, calming.

They lay like that for long minutes as Harry caught his breath and came fully back to his waking self. "I hated that bitch," he said softly. "I hated her with a fiery passion, and I'm glad she's dead."

"As are many," Evan softly assured him, easing back a little so he could see Harry's face. "Better?"

"I'll be better when you're in me," Harry replied. "I need you."

Evan didn't ask him if he was certain, and didn't hesitate, but leaned down and kissed his bonded deeply, reaching between their bodies to stroke them to hardness, rocking against him as their desire grew. With a motion, Evan cast cleaning, lubricating and stretching charms as Harry raised his knees and spread his legs.

With one motion, Evan was inside Harry.

Right where Harry wanted him.

He stilled there for long moments, giving Harry this closeness, the connectedness that he was craving. 

Truth be told, Evan needed it, too.

"Move," Harry said, finally, shifting his hips encouragingly.

Evan did as he was bid, moving slowly, using deep, slow thrusts, making Harry feel every inch of skin, reminding him that this, they, were real, and present, and very much alive.

Their passion built together until Harry came with a slight cry, and Evan quickly followed.

Sated, Harry tugged Evan down to hold him again, silently casting cleaning charms, and they slept, dreamlessly.

 


	30. Oblah-Dee, Oblah-Dah (Life Goes On)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry makes waves at the Wizengamot and Evan starts to make connections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to reviewers and readers, I'm still writing this story! (I miss sighing_selkie, though; how are you? Hope you're still reading!)

Chapter 30: Oblah-Dee, Oblah-Dah

Harry started his afternoon office hours in his Wizengamot rooms with a new research assistant.

It had been a week, more or less, since his tea with Ron and Hermione, and Harry had wasted no time finding someone young, idealistic, and smart to help him define the parameters of the new study looking into Wizarding mental health. Maeve Connelly was born in Ireland, attended classes at Beauxbatons at her parents’ behest to avoid the chaos that was Hogwarts during and immediately after the second wizarding war, and graduated at the top of her class with top scores in Potions, History of Magic, International Affairs, and the other standard subjects.

Maeve had brains, and she also had that rare wizarding talent of logic to back up solid magical skill. As a product of Ireland and France, Maeve had no inherent biases for or against the varied political factions in England, and Harry hired her in part because of her open mind.

She was also the muggleborn daughter of two scientists, and thanks to their influence, Maeve had a strong grasp of the research process and solid writing skills.

She’d do very nicely, Harry thought, as he laid out the idea for the Mental Health Project.

xxx

Evan had Jamie down for a nap in the warded corner of his Welsh cottage, and was spending his own time with his books and notes on the Unforgivables. He read and worked steadily, compiling a report on the known effects and requirements of those three curses--Avada Kedavra, Crucio and Imperio--on the casters. It was tough going. Much was known about what the curses did to those on whom they were cast, but the literature was sparse on the effects to the caster.

Except for magical exhaustion.

That came up quite a bit as a known side effect of the Avada, in particular. It took a lot out of a low-powered caster, and even those with high levels of magic could only use it sparingly without depletion. Fatigue was also noted with Crucio, but anecdotally--ideally, the curse was used in short bursts, and the effects were not necessarily noticeable. 

Certainly, Evan had never noticed Voldemort getting particularly tired of casting the Cruciatus, though, to be fair, he’d been preoccupied himself at the time. Especially if the Dark Lord was casting it at him.

He shuddered.

Evan found very little on the Imperius Curse. Its victims could offer no insight, as they usually had no memory of the caster, and the casters certainly weren’t telling. But it wasn’t a stretch to consider that Imperio likely also required raw magical power, and therefore, would likely cause magical exhaustion in those of limited ability.

Evan started a new sheet of paper, titled it “Symptoms of Magical Exhaustion,” and divided it in half. He labeled the left half, “Short Term,” and the right half, “Long Term.” Then, he dove back into his library, keeping half an ear out for his sleeping stepson.

xxx

Harry was tired. 

After explaining the project to Maeve, who’d gone directly to the British Library to start her work, Harry had spent the afternoon in session, responding to arguments against the stack of legislation that he’d authored and co-authored. All told, the entire body of British law regarding the rights of sentient magical beings had been overhauled, reworked, and, if Harry did say so himself, presented a much more clear understanding of such beings and their treatment by other sentient magical beings. Especially wizards and witches.

One of these days, Harry was going to bring up Hermione’s suggestion that all wizards and witches should be called wizards, to avoid the gender bias inherent in in the term “witch,” which also included negative connotations in the non-magical world. The thought had merit, he knew.

But that day would not be today, as Harry. Was. Tired. Physically and emotionally exhausted. Kaput.

But they’d made progress. The bulk of the legislation had passed, and the new classification system for sentient magical beings would come into effect on July 1. The main arguments left had to do with so-called “Dark” creatures, particularly werewolves, and their legal treatment.

The trouble, Harry well knew, was that they were beings that could not control themselves without assistance, and their natural state once a month was bloodthirsty and viral. People were scared of werewolves, justifiably, and they could not all be trusted to seek out the assistance they needed. Nor could some afford it, Harry admitted. 

As a condition, lycanthropy was a tough one to work around, but it could be done. And Harry had already set up a charitable foundation in Remus’ name to provide Wolfsbane to those who needed it, free of charge. His hope was that the ready availability of Wolfsbane might sway votes in favor of repealing existing laws that forbade werewolves from working in the magical world under threats of incarceration. Under the proposed law, weres who could prove they received and took Wolfsbane to control themselves under the moon would have the same rights and responsibilities as other sentient magical beings. 

One step at a time, Harry thought, and, sinking into the comfortable chair in his study, closed his eyes. 

xxx

Evan stepped through the floo with a swoosh of green flame, Jamie giggling in one arm, to see his bonded curled up in his armchair, glasses half off his nose, hair ruffled and running amok, and fine dress robes wrinkled up around his waist, exposing charcoal pin-striped trousers and matching shoes. He was snoring lightly.

“Shhhh,” Evan cautioned Jamie with quick smile. “Daddy’s sleeping.”

Jamie giggled, answering back. “Ssshhhhhh. Da’ see’.”

“Just so, my lad,” Evan said softly. He stepped closer, bring Jamie down to eye level with Harry. “Should we wake him?”

Jamie nodded. “Wa’ Da.” He reached out with a chubby fist and petted Harry’s hair. “Da! Da!”

Harry’s snores stopped abruptly.

“Da! Da!” More pets.

Emerald eyes fluttered open. “Jamie! Jamie!” Harry responded. Jamie giggled and held both hands out, jumping forward to be caught for a giggly snuggle from his Da. Quick fingers ran over Jamie’s ribs, and Evan leaned forward to brush a kiss over Harry’s brow.

“How’d it go?” He inquired.

“Still hung up on werewolves, but the bulk of the legislation passed,” Harry yawned, tucking the still-giggling baby more closely into his arms. “You?”

“Quiet afternoon. Potions under control, happy baby. Did some research. I think there’s a strong link to magical exhaustion, and I’m looking into that. Wish there were more records of those who’ve used Imperio, though. Can’t find anything about how they felt after using it, and no anecdotal evidence from those who’ve seen it used, because, of course, they wouldn’t remember it being used on them.” Evan shook his head, and took a seat across from Harry in the matching armchair. 

Harry paused. “You need to find people who’ve cast Imperio to discuss the feel of the spell on the caster?”

“Yes,” Evan replied. “I’ve never cast it myself, so I don’t know. Actually, I’ve only ever cast the AK, once, to put a poor muggle out of his tortured misery, and the Cruciatus as a part of Death Eater rites of passage. I managed to get myself exempt from most of the bloodier missions because of my Potions Master status.” And his protector, though neither mentioned that. “So I’m forced to look to literature. Because very few will admit to having cast that Unforgivable.”

Harry grimaced, then kissed Jamie’s forehead and stood. “I think I have to tell you a story over dinner.”

“Am I going to like this?”

“Probably not, but you might find it useful.”

xxx

Over a homey meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, grean beans and treacle tart, Harry finally told Evan the complete story behind the Horcrux hunt, focusing primarily on the adventure in Gringotts, during which Harry himself had effectively cast Imperio more than once.

“I don’t recall feeling tired after doing so,” Harry said. “But there was rather a lot of adrenaline involved, and by the time I was able to sleep afterwards, I had cast a number of other curses, died, come back to life, and effectively killed a Dark Lord. It wasn’t surprising that I was exhausted at that point. Though nightmares effectively made me an insomniac for some time.”

Evan internally scowled at the recitation of all Harry’d gone through in the span of just a day or two, but for the benefit of Jamie, kept the scowl on the inside and simply cut through another slice of treacle tart, placing a bit on Jamie’s tray for the baby to try. “I’m not surprise that you don’t recall the physical effects of casting the spell. Though you do have sheer raw power in depths even your Healer can’t really measure, so it probably didn’t tire you much, considering.”

“Yes, and I then had no trouble with apparition and numerous spells afterward, including Crucio,” Harry commented, absently toying with his own slice of tart, appetite forgotten in the recollection of war memories. 

Evan stilled for a moment, then continued his silent spoiling of the baby with sugar. Said baby babbled his pleasure, loudly. “You successfully cast Crucio during the final battle?”

“Beforehand. At one of the Carrows. Never could remember which was which. Insulted McGonagall, and I’d had enough of Death Eaters for a lifetime.” Harry put his fork down and pushed his half-filled plate away, to Evan’s growing concern. Harry never refused treacle tart. Ever.

“Love,” Evan started speaking, quietly. “Do you realize that simply recalling the use of those two curses has put you right off your treacle tart?”

Harry looked up at him, green eyes meeting dark gray. “Thinking about those two days always makes me feel like this, like there’s no reason and no life. My therapist reminds me that the trauma I went through then is more than enough justification for a little depression, but he also urges me to look forward and count my blessings.” He drew a deep breath. “Jamie. You. You two are my blessings, so I’ll be fine.” He blew it out. “It’s still hard, though.”

Evan nodded, then reached over the table--they were sitting across from each other, Jamie between them on his own side--to pick up Harry’s hand from where it sat on the table itself, lacing their fingers together. “You do have us, my heart. You’re not alone. You’re alive, and well, and you have a beautiful son and a loving partner.”

Harry half-smiled at the affirmation, and nodded back. “I do.”

“Still,” Evan carried on, “I do believe it’s your turn for a massage tonight.”

A long, low, anticipatory groan escaped Harry. “Wicked.”


	31. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which parties are planned, and some plans are executed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those of you who are still following and reading. I'll probably wrap this up soon.

**Chapter 31: Plans**

 

Weeks passed, as Maeve did her research, Harry battled the Wizengamot, and Evan cared for Jamie and made his potions. Andromeda visited regularly, with Teddy, and she reminded Harry, the first weekend in June, that he had a public bonding to plan.

 

“Well, we’ve set the date for my birthday, July 31, and since we’re already bonded, we don’t really need much,” Harry commented over a lunch that featured cheeseburgers and chips, as a concession to the now six-year-old Teddy, who loved the versions made by Harry’s kitchen staff.

 

Andromeda sniffed. “Shows what you know. If you had your way, you and Evan would probably just get married privately and be done with it.”

 

Neither man could deny that, and made simultaneous noncommittal hums.

 

Andromeda sniffed again. “You agreed to let me plan the formal bonding, so I shall. But I’d like a few details from you about what you might like.”

 

“Well, we already promised Master Lupin he’d be a part of the bonding,” Evan noted.

 

“And we’re already bonded along all five points--heart, soul, magic, body, spirit,” Harry said, “so this is really a formality and declaration.”

 

“Which also formally changes Evan’s name to Prince-Potter, and installs him as Lord Consort Prince-Potter,” Andromeda pointed out. “You need to have something a bit flashy and public to honor that, and to make a statement.”

 

“Yes, but first we need to celebrate my lad’s birthday,” Harry said calmly, offering Jamie another, cooled, chip. Jamie really loved big people food, and they’d graduated to small bits of whatever was being served for dinner, topped off with a bottle at bedtime. “June 18th.”

 

Andromeda sighed. “I’m quite certain the Weasleys will want details as soon as you have them, and as they’ll likely be over for Jamie’s birthday, you’ll want to share the news then before they get the formal invitations.”

 

If manners allowed it, Harry’s eyes would have rolled at the statement. “Of course, Andromeda. Evan, what would you like?”

 

Evan smirked. “A private ceremony in the outdoors.”

 

“Seems we’re all out of private,” Harry noted. “But outdoors could be arranged. Morning, noon, night?”

 

“Evening,” Evan said decisively. “It will still be light until fairly late. And that seems to have become our time of day.”

 

“You romantic, you,” Andromeda drawled. “Evening, outdoors. Where?”

 

Harry shrugged again, adding banana to Jamie’s tray by way of dessert. “We could do it here, I guess. There’s an oak grove about a five-minute walk from the backdoor that I suspect has been used for such things before.”

 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Andromeda pulled out a notebook and a mundane pen.

 

“When you get married, will you still be my uncles?” Teddy piped up from his end of the table, where he’d demolished his sandwich, chips and fruit, and was currently working on a slice of chocolate cake, having finished his main lunch to everyone’s satisfaction.

 

Harry nodded back. “The wedding won’t change the fact that we’re your uncles, Teddy. We would like you to carry our rings for the ceremony, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Sure!” Teddy said.

 

“That’s set, then,” Evan commented. “I’ve no real requirements beyond what’s been discussed here.”

 

Harry chewed the last of his own chocolate cake and swallowed. “Nor have I. Evening wedding in the oak grove behind Potter House. Standard vows, as we’ve already been bonded, as an affirmation. All the paperwork is filed already. In essence, Evan, this just formalizes in public what’s already there. And we can have an outdoor dinner party after. I’m sure the staff could come up with an appropriate menu, and cake.”

 

Andromeda was busily writing these things down. “I’ll check with Lucius regarding an officiant. I’m not certain about the protocol for the formal bonding of two Lords, even if one is officially and legally Lord Consort. But I’ll keep the ceremonial aspects of things to a minimum. Colors?”

 

This time, Harry really did roll his eyes. “Potter colors are burgundy and gold. Prince colors are black and green. I imagine we’ll need to work those in somehow.”

 

“Have you commissioned a new crest yet?” Andromeda asked.

 

“Lucius mentioned something. The Potter and Prince crests are compatible, but as far as we’re aware, there’s been no combining of the two houses in the past, so something would need to be drawn up. I don’t recall where that discussion went, though,” Harry mused.

 

“I’ll check with him.” Andromeda made a note. “Oh, and with your steward.”

 

“Yes, Robert may have more knowledge than I on that score,” Harry said.

 

“Anyone would have more knowledge than I on that score,” Evan muttered, then cleared his throat. “Must we get formal and pompous?”

 

Harry smirked. “Comes with the territory. But it’s only the once, and we’ll have a crest made combining our households, and use that on everything from this point forward.” Harry reached over and took Evan’s hand. “We’ll serve stout, fish and chips at the dinner, if you’d like.”

 

Evan smirked right back. “I’d love to see that.”

 

Andromeda just sighed.

 

xxx

 

Jamie’s first birthday the following weekend could have been tense, but strangely, it wasn’t. All the Weasleys, minus Molly, appeared, along with Andromeda and Teddy, the Malfoys, and Maeve Connelly, who spent much of the party deep in conversation with Hermione.

 

A light luncheon of sandwiches, fruit, crisps and assorted finger foods was followed by a large white cake, filled with raspberry jam and frosted with buttercream. Harry helped Jamie blow out the single candle burning on its top, then let his now year-old son have a piece all to himself. More of the cake was smeared into Jamie’s hair -- “How did he get icing in his ears?” -- than actually went into his tummy, but the baby was content with the cake. He also didn’t quite get what he was supposed to do with the wrapping paper on the presents, and was content to let his father help him open his gifts.

 

The resulting stash of toys and clothes would supply Jamie for weeks, and Harry conceded that it was probably time to store or donate what he already had, given how rapidly Jamie was growing.

 

Jamie’s favorite toys were, of course, the boxes.

 

The very happy and very sleepy boy went down for a nap as guests decided to depart in the middle of the afternoon, and as they all left, Harry and Evan collapsed on the sofa in the family room.

 

“One birthday down,” Harry intoned, eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankle, and arms sprawled across the back of the sofa.

 

“Many more to go, I hope,” Evan replied, tipping his own head back into Harry’s shoulder.

 

Harry smirked, and borrowed Evan’s favorite expression. “Indeed.”

 

xxx

 

As the summer wore on, the Wizengamot took its annual break, and Harry and Jamie took to spending their time with Evan at the Welsh cottage, now called Innisfree. They took several trips into the countryside to collect wild herbal potions ingredients, and Jamie started toddling, walking wobbly with a hand from either or both of his parents.

 

They spent their days in the sunshine, and once Jamie was down for the night, Evan and Harry spent their nights in each other’s arms.

 

A fitting reward, for two who had battled so much darkness.

 

As the end of July approached, Andromeda spent more time at Potter House, pulling together final details of their formal bonding ceremony.

 

“Honestly, Harry, you two are harder to pin down than a salamander in a bonfire,” she said exasperatedly one afternoon, finally catching the couple at home.

 

Harry rose from his seat in the study, where he’d been looking over accounts, and greeted her. “We prefer to spend as much time outdoors as we can in the summer, Andy,” he explained, kissing her cheek.

 

“Children need laughter and sunshine to grow up well,” Evan added, setting his own potions journal aside. “We’ve decided that all three of us need such things.”

 

“And so that means no one can track you down,” Andromeda sighed, a bit grumpy, but conceded. “I just have a few details to go over with you, and then I’ll let you get back to it.”

 

“Where’s Teddy today?” Harry asked, reseating himself.

 

“He’s made a friend at primary school with whom he’s spending some afternoons. Said friend’s mother and I are swapping an afternoon a week so that we each get some alone time. It works well,” she explained. “Today, the pair of them are thick as thieves over at Eddie’s home in Godric’s Hollow.”

 

Evan quirked an eyebrow. “Teddy and Eddie?”

 

“Don’t get me started,” Andromeda said. “Apparently, it cracked the pair of them up when they met and they’ve been nearly inseparable while at school, since. Now that everything’s on break, however, they’ve had to be content with each other’s company only every other day or so.”

 

Harry laughed. “We’ll have to meet him at some point.”

 

“We’ll try to arrange a play date over here some time after the bonding,” she noted, then flipped open her notebook.

 

Both men groaned, and she looked up in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Sorry, Andromeda, it’s just that the notebook has become capitalized in our heads at this point. It’s, THE NOTEBOOK. I’ll be glad to see it gone, because it means this whole formal thing is over,” Harry explained.

 

Evan added, “I’m not a fan of the spotlight, so its symbolism gets me. But do go on.”

 

Andromeda shook her head. “It’s all nearly done, anyway. We’ve got the Minister officiating. Invitations have gone out, responses have come back, and nearly all positively. The oak grove has been cleaned up and is ready for the hundred people who will be here. Staff will place the chairs in a half circle inside the grove, with the ceremony occurring in the center. The crest is complete, as you know, since you approved it, Harry, and will be used as a seal on black, green, red and gold tartan ribbon on the back of each white chair. You’ll arrive, use the traditional vows, the Minister will invoke magic’s blessing, much love, much fuss, a little confetti, and you’re official. Retreat to the marquee in the backyard here, and much fun until you kick everyone out. Yes, there will be fish and chips and stout, Harry, just because you requested them, but there will also be a range of other foods, buffet style to encourage mingling, and a champagne fountain.”

 

“Sounds good. So we just need to show up, right?”

 

“In the robes I’ve got ordered for you. You need to go to the tailor for the final fitting. Harry, you’re in Potter colors. Evan, in Prince colors. When the ceremony is complete, your robes will change to automatically show that you’ve combined houses--you’ll both be wearing black silk robes with Potter-Prince tartan trim. I think you’ll both look very dashing.”

 

“You’ve thought of everything,” Evan said.

 

“And we truly appreciate it,” Harry added. “As you know, we wouldn’t fuss.”

 

“And this truly is as unfussy as I could make it, and still make it a formal bonding of two lordships.” Andromeda closed the notebook. “Now we just have to go through with it.”

 

“Can’t wait,” Harry said kindly.

 

“To be finished with it,” Evan muttered snarkily.

 

On cue, Andromeda rolled her eyes at them both.


	32. Finalizing the Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they get hitched and think about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, for now, my friends. Thanks for coming along on my first HP fic. If there's interest, I may do a sequel--I left enough loose ends to pull them back up and together. But for now, there's a bit of closure here.

Chapter 32: Formalizing the Bond

  
  
  


Much to Harry’s surprise, the bonding went off without a hitch, following Andromeda’s prescribed “unfussy” schedule of events, and featuring Teddy Lupin as host and ring-bearer. The young boy took his duty seriously, kept very close track of the platinum bonding rings, and stepped up at just the right moment with them.

 

Harry and Even were proud of him.

 

The reception afterwards featured good food, good company, and peaceful, unfussy music. There was no official dance, but a few of the younger guests managed to do some dancing anyway. Jamie acted as unofficial mascot, cheerfully getting passed from friend to friend, and usually ending up in the arms of a Weasley or a parent.

 

“Nice spread,” Draco Malfoy commented to Harry when he had a chance to corner the grooms. “Nice ceremony, too.”

 

“I love how the food trumps the actual ceremony,” Harry snarked.

 

“Well, it is pretty tasty,” Ron, overhearing, commented as he walked by with an apple tart in one hand.

 

Evan shook his head. “We’ve been bonded for weeks; this just covered the needed public bases.”

 

“Ah, yes, my Lords Prince-Potter,” Draco said with a formal bow. “I have been remiss in addressing you correctly.”

 

Harry laughed. “We don’t need the formal address in our own backyard, Draco, but thanks.”

 

“Will there be a honeymoon in the offing?” Draco asked.

 

Evan and Harry exchanged glances. “Not at this time,” Evan replied. “We’ll take the weekend at the cottage. Andromeda will take Jamie for us, so we can have these few days to ourselves, but otherwise, we’ll wait on a trip.”

 

Harry nodded. “I’d like to do a family trip at some point, but Jamie’s a bit young to be left for so long. At least, I don’t feel comfortable with being separated from him for that long, yet.”

 

Draco nodded. “Reasonable. Let me know your plans. You’re due for your annual check-up soon.”

 

Harry laughed. “If someone had told me, first year, that Draco Malfoy would be my fussy Healer, I’d have laughed before calling them mental.”

 

Draco smirked. “Oh, how things change. I agree though; if someone had told me I’d be Healer to the Boy-Who-Lived, I’d probably have thrown a hex.”

 

“We were rather horrible to each other back then,” Harry sighed. “Good thing we grew up.”

 

Evan shook his head. “I never would have seen this coming, either, but I’m glad for it.”

 

xxx

 

The night wore on. Numerous members of Wizarding nobility stopped by the couple’s table to congratulate the pair, and if some noticed the distinct resemblance Evan bore to Severus Snape, no one mentioned it, out of politeness. The Prince heir, after all, could be expected to resemble his (supposed) half-brother.

 

The only hitch, as far as Harry could tell, was his own sense of loss.

 

He missed Ginny.

 

More than anyone else in the crowd, with the possible exception of Evan, Ginny would have understood just how much bonding with Evan made him happy. Beyond happy. Ecstatic, even.

 

It still hurt that she was gone, but so many good things had come about in the aftermath of her death.

 

Harry wished he could think of some way he could acknowledge his late wife without looking somehow like a pillock toward his husband.

 

“Knut for your thoughts?” Evan asked, leaning toward him and pouring another half-glass of Laphroig whiskey for each of them.

 

Harry gave a half-smile. “Sounds weird, but I miss Ginny. I wish she could be here to celebrate with us. And then I think that and get confused when I realize this couldn’t have happened without her being gone. If you get what I mean. She was really my best friend. We went through so much together.” He paused, and went on carefully. “I just wish I could find some way to acknowledge and honor her.”

 

“Did you think I’d be offended by the thought?” Evan asked quietly. “Because I’m not. She was your wife, and remains the mother of your son. She gave her life to protect Jamie. I’d like for us to honor and acknowledge her, too.”

 

“Us.” Harry smiled wistfully. “I’d like that, somehow. If it wouldn’t be too crass or something.”

 

Evan sipped his whiskey. “There are any number of things we could do, Harry. We have significant funds between the two of us. Perhaps we could endow something in her honor?”

 

“What, you mean a named something?” Harry asked. “I did do that for Remus, didn’t I?”

 

Evan nodded. “The charitable foundation that gives away free Wolfsbane to werewolves in need.”

“But what would be a fitting memorial for Ginny?” Harry pondered. “She gave her life for Jamie, but I know she didn’t want to be known only as a mother and Lady Potter. She wanted something more out of her life. You know, we were working on a way for her to free her time so she could train in a career of some sort.”

 

“What did she want to do?”

 

“Originally? Quidditch,” Harry said. “We knew that she wouldn’t be able to get a tryout with any of the teams at her age, though. But she was interested in sports. And irritated by the lack of opportunities for young women in Wizarding sports like Quidditch, even though there are loads of equal opportunities in other careers. And what do people do after Quidditch? It’s really a young person’s career. I suppose there’s coaching, but a lot of the players only have a limited number of years to play before they have to find something else to do.”

 

“You know, in the mundane world, there are numerous careers surrounding sports,” Evan smiled ruefully. “I confess to liking a bit of footie, though I’ve not gone to a game or seen one in some time. It was something my da liked to watch at the pub with his mates.”

 

Harry loved how Evan’s working-class accent popped out when he started talking about his father. “What kind of careers?”

 

“Oh, I’d have to look into it more, but trainers, coaches, players, those who deal with reporters, managers, business folks. I don’t know how one would train for many of those positions,” Evan replied.

 

Harry sat back. “What about a training school for magicals in sports-related careers? Do we have anything like that?”

 

“Not to my knowledge.”

 

“For that matter, what kind of after-Hogwarts training does exist? I know I had apprentice-style training with Lucius to assume my role in the Wizengamot and manage my estates, but I would have had that much earlier had I been raised by my parents or another noble Wizarding family,” Harry thought out loud. “Draco apprenticed at St. Mungo’s for his Healer training.”

 

“And most of the professions require certain NEWT scores plus a period of apprenticeship. With Quidditch, it’s the tryout for players.”

 

“And when players are too old or injured to play?”

 

“I think that’s where apprenticeships as trainers, coaches or other staff come into play.”

 

“So there’s no centralized sort of uni for magicals?”

 

“No, not really. Though some mundane born study for entrance exams and go to regular university after Hogwarts,” Evan said.

 

“Ginevra Weasley-Potter Postsecondary.” Harry rolled the phrase around on his tongue.

 

“What are you thinking now, love?”

 

“Of a post-secondary school for magicals who need further training, or assistance in career planning.”

 

Evan blinked. “We could certainly use one.”

 

“Why hasn’t it been done before?” Harry asked.

 

“I wouldn’t begin to know. I suspect it’s because apprenticeships have been more traditional,” Evan replied.

 

“Well, and they’d have to continue, of course, but for the Hogwarts graduate who hasn’t a clue about the rest of his or her life, a place to go to make connections, get assistance with career planning and advice, maybe get further training. That would be dead useful,” Harry said.

 

“And it’s a big project.”

 

Harry nodded. “I’ll have to hire another researcher.”

 

Evan tipped his glass in Harry’s direction. “There you go again, changing the world.” He sipped. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Harry leaned forward, took Evan’s glass, sipped himself, then slid into Evan’s lap, setting the glass down. He leaned up and kissed Evan, tenderly, on the lips, then drew back. “I couldn’t do it, or have done it, without you.”

 

Evan tightened his arms around Harry. “You are an extraordinary young man, Harry James Potter, and I’m happy to be your partner.”

  
  



End file.
